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Plays for Schools and Colleges 

AARON BOGGS, FRESHMAN ; 

By Walter Ben Hare. Comedy in 3 acts; 8 males, S 
females. Time, 2% hour s. Price, 25 Cents. 

AFTER THE GAME , 

By Lindsey Barbee. Comedy m 2 acts, 1 male, » 
females. Time, 1% hours. Price, 25 Cents. 

ALL A MISTAKE 

By W. C. Parker. Farce-comedy in 3 acts; 4 males, 4 
females. Time, 2 hours. ^ . Price, 25 Cents. 

ALL ON ACCOUNTOFPOLLY 

Bv Harry L. Newton. Com«edy in 3 acts; t> males, iv 
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AS A WOMAN THINKETH 

By Edith F. A. U. Painton. Comedy in 3 acts; 9 males. 
7 females. Time, 2 % hours. . Price, 25 Cents. 

AT THE END OF THE RAINBOW 

By Lindsey Barbee. Comedy in 3 acts; 6 males, 14 fe- 
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civil service . ;"■-; 

By Walter Ben Hare. Drama m 3 acts; 6 males, 5 fe- 
males. Time, 2*4 hours Price, 25 Cents. 

THE CLASS SHIP ^ • . 

By Edith F. A. U. Painton. Commencement play- 
let; 3 males, 8 females. Time, 35 minutes 

Price, 15 Cents. 



CLUBBING A HUSBAND . 

By Edith F. A. U. Painton. Comedy in 3 acts, 12 fe- 
males. Time, 2. hours. Price, 25 Cents. 

% , ■ — 

A COLLEGE TOWN 

By Walter Ben Hare. Farce-comedy in 3 acts; 9 males, 
females. Time, 2Vi hours. Price, 25 Cents. 

THE DEACON ENTANGLED 

By Harry Osborne. Comedy in 3 acts; 6 males, 4 fe- 
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THE FIFTEENTH OF JANUARY 

. By Lindsey Barbee. Comedy in 3 acts; 11 males, 10 
females. Time, 2V4 hours. Price, 25 Cents. 

THE GRADUATE'S CHOICE 

By Edith F. A. U. Painton. Commencement Playlet: 1J 
females. TV linutes. Price, 15 Cents. 

T. S. Denison & Company, Publishers 

154 West Randolph Street CHICA 



MY IRISH ROSE 

A Comedy-drama of Irish Life 
in Three Acts 



BY 

Walter Ben Hare 
it 

AUTHOR OP MORE THAN ONE HUNDRED PLAYS INCLUDING 

"Aaron Boggs, Freshman" "Abbu San of Old Japan " 
"And Home Came Ted," "Civil Service," "A College 
Town," "Deacon Dubbs," "A Dream of Queen Esther," 
"An Early Bird," "Kicked Out of College," "Laughing 
Water," "A Little Clodhopper," "Macbeth a la Mode," 
"Mrs. Tubbs of Shantytown," "An Old Fashioned 
Mother," "Parlor Matches," "A Poor Married Man," 
"A Rustic Romeo," "A Southern Cinderella," "The 
White Christmas and Other Merry Christmas Plays," Etc 




CHICAGO 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



P5 35/5 

MY IRISH R0S5 fl 575 N^ 



iq\G) 



" Here's to old Ireland with her shamrock so green, 
Here's to each lad and his darling colleen ! 
To true Irish hearts, with never a flaw, 
May God save old Ireland, and Erin go bragh! " 




RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO 

MRS. H. F. DIXIE 

COACH, ACTRESS AND FRIEND, 
FOR MANY YEARS THE DI- 
RECTOR OF DRAMATICS 
AT CORNELL UNI- 
VERSITY 



NOTICE 

Production of this play is 
free to amateurs, but the sole 
professional rights are reserved 
by the author, who may be ad- 
dressed in care of the Publish- 
ers. Moving picture rights re- 
served. 



NOV 17 1919 

COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY 
T. S. DENISON & COMPANY. 

©CI.Q 53110 






V 

MY IRISH ROSE 



FOR SIX MEN AND SIX WOMEN 



CHARACTERS REPRESENTED 

COLUM McCoRMACK 

A Prosperous Irish Farmer of County Kildare 

Maurice Fitzgerald. . . .A Rich Young Dublin Artist 
Terry Creigan 

McCormack's Nephew, a Young Irish Patriot in Exile 
Mr. Archibald Pennywitt 

A Wealthy English Tourist 

Mr. Michael Pepperdine 

. . An Eminent Dublin Barrister 

Shawn McGilly 

The Laziest Man in County Kildare 

Ann Mary McCormack 

Columns Sister, with a True Irish Heart 

The Widow Hannigan 

.... With Money in the Bank and an Eye on Colum 

Eileen Fitzgerald A Dublin Heiress 

Lady Agnes Barricklow. . Who Hesitates at Nothing 
Pegeen Burke. . .A Servant on the McCormack Farm 

Rose Creigan A Wild Irish Rose 

Lads and Lassies 



Time — 1904. 

Place — County Kildare, and Dublin, Ireland. 

Time of Playing — Two and One-Half Hours. 

3 



MY IRISH ROSE 



Act. I. Colum MeCormack's farm yard on the out- 
skirts of a village in County Kildare, Ireland. " St, 
Patrick's Day in the Morning." 

Act II. Same scene at Act I, a few hours later. 
" The Kerry Dance." 

Act III. Scene 1. The Library of Fitzgerald's 
house in Dublin, a year later. " The Last Rose of 
Summer." 

Scene 2. Same as Scene 1, four hours later. 
" Mavourneen." 

Note.—- The curtain descends for a few minutes be- 
tween Scenes 1 and 2 in Act III to indicate a lapse of 
four hours. 



THE STORY OF THE PLAY 

Rose Creigan, a little Irish country lass, is the pride 
of her bachelor uncle Colum McCormack arid her aunt 
Ann Mary. Her brother, Terence Creigan, has been 
cashiered from the army on account of a superior of- 
ficer's enmity, and has gone to America. Maurice 
Fitzgerald, a wealthy Dublin artist, falls in love with 
Rose while painting her picture. He proposes mar- 
riage and is accepted. Shortly after he learns from his 
family lawyer, Mr. Pepperdine, that his cousin has 
been killed and that he is heir to the estate and a 
baronet. Mr. Pepperdine suggests that he break off 
his matrimonial entanglement, but Maurice spurns the 
suggestion with contempt. 



MY IRISH ROSE 



Lady Agnes Barricklow has long been in love with 
Maurice and now that he is a wealthy baronet decides 
to marry him. She arrives at the McCormack farm 
with Eileen, Maurice's sister, and tries to break orf' 
the match between Rose and Sir Maurice by suggest- 
ing to Rose that her lover is already engaged to marry 
Eileen (who is really his sister). Rose sees Maurice 
embrace his sister and thinking she is his betrothed, 
agrees to break the match. But Archibald Penny- 
witt, a blundering English tourist, explains that Eileen 
is Maurice's sister, and Maurice introduces Rose to all 
as his affianced wife. 

In Act III Rose and Maurice have been married for 
a year, but Lady Agnes is still trying to cause trouble 
by suggesting a separation. Terry Creigan, Rose's 
brother, comes home from America and is conditionally 
restored to his rank. Sir Maurice decides to go to Bel- 
fast to beg the commanding general to remove all re- 
strictions against Terry. Rose after a bitter quar- 
rel with Agnes, orders her from the house, but is much 
dismayed to find that Maurice too is leaving for Bel- 
fast. Rose suspecting that Maurice is to join Agnes 
at Belfast, spurns her husband and departs for a grand 
ball w T ith her brother Terry. Maurice, thinking that 
Terry is Rose's lover, decides to challenge him to a 
duel, but Rose and Terry return from the ball and the 
brother is introduced to the husband and all ends well. 



MY IRISH ROSE 



COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS 

Colum: Aged fifty. Rather stout. Line face 
carefully and make up with neat iron-gray hair and side 
whiskers. Use just a faint brogue and do not exag- 
gerate the character. This is not the typical variety- 
stage Irishman, but the real, lovable, quick-tempered, 
authoritative farmer of east Ireland. In Acts I and II 
he wears a corduroy suit, gamekeeper's leggins, gray 
woolen shirt and felt hat. In Act III he wears a tight- 
fitting black suit and black felt hat. 

Maurice: A handsome man of about 25. Neat 
summer outing suit in Acts I and II with cap. Full 
evening dress in Act III. 

Terry: A handsome young lieutenant. Speaks with 
slight brogue. Wears dress uniform of a British of- 
ficer. On first entrance however wears long, light 
weight overcoat and top hat. 

Archibald Pennywitt: Tourist suit and cap. Mon- 
ocle. May wear long drooping mustache. On first en- 
trance he wears auto cap, coat, gauntlets and goggles. 
In Act III handsome walking suit, white gaiters, cane, 
top hat, flower in coat, monocle. For second entrance 
in Act III wear dinner clothes, dress overcoat, top hat 
and white gloves. 

Pepper dine: Aged forty. Neat gray wig and mus- 
tache. Neat walking suit and hat in Act I. Dinner 
clothes in Act III. To be played with much dignity 
and as a prominent, city lawyer. Use nose-glasses. 

Shawn: A country rustic. Red crop wig and eye- 
brows. Very lazy, frequently yawning and stretching 
himself. Rough farm clothes in Act I. Neater suit 
with green ribbons in Act II. 



MY IRISH ROSE 



Ann Mary: Hair powdered and parted in middle, 
then combed plainly over ears. Woolen petticoat, dark 
skirt turned up over the petticoat. Neat waist. 
Small red shawl over shoulders. Large white apron. 
Spectacles in pocket of apron. White cap with frill. 
In Act II she wears neat flowered pattern dress with 
concealed pocket, without shawl or cap. 

The Widow: Comedy make-up. Old fashioned 
dress, black lace mitts, old fashioned lace shawl and 
large hand-bag. Large bonnet trimmed with many col- 
ored flowers and ribbons. 

Eileen: Aged 19. Auto suit, coat and bonnet of 
gray trimmed in pink. Veil. Gauntlets. In Act III 
she wears dainty afternoon dress and large picture hat 
and changes this to ball gown, opera cloak, hair orna- 
ments, dress cut with train. 

Agnes: Aged 24. Tan auto suit in Act II. Brown 
bonnet and gauntlets. In Act III dress similar to 
Eileen's but more elaborate. Use a heavy make-up and 
play the part in a proud, overbearing manner. 

Pegeen: Aged 20. A dull slow servant in Acts I 
and II. Dress similar to Ann Mary with gaudy ribbons 
in Act II. In Act III she is entirely changed into a 
neat, French maid. Gray dress, ankle length, white 
lace apron, collar and cuffs, small white lace cap with 
tw r o long pink satin streamers. Rough shoes in Acts I 
and II. Neat gray pumps and silk hose in Act III. 

Rose: Aged 18. Hair down in curls in Acts I and 
II. Plain dark skirt and plain white silk waist in Acts 
I and II. Long white lacy afternoon dress in Act 
III ; change to very elaborate ball gown with long train 
and white opera cloak. 



MY IRISH ROSE 



SYNOPSIS 

Act I. An Irish farm. St. Patrick's Day in the 
Morning. Shawn McGilly, the laziest man in all Ire- 
land, learns what Ann Mary thinks of him. Pegeen 
Burke: For work there's not her equal in the parish, 
but her tongue it's sharper than a Michaelmas bog- 
wind. The Widow Hannigan makes a proposal. The 
exile in America. " He had no gold and he had no high 
estate to give to his dear country, but he is giving some- 
thing more precious than either, he is giving her an 
Irishman's love. Rose and Maurice. " It's a wild- 
rose you'll be until your death, there's no taming you ! " 
A visitor from Dublin. " My affianced wife, the future 
Lady Fitzgerald ! " 

Act II. A St. Patrick Day dance. Pegeen and 
the pumps. " They wear pumps on their feet, I'm 
thinking they'll be w r earing tubs on their heads next." 
The auto breaks down. The Widow's curiosity. Ag- 
nes and Rose. " He would be ashamed of you in a 
month, would blush for your ignorance before all his 
friends." A deep laid plot fails. " Eileen has found 
her brother." Rose o' my Heart! 

Act III. Scene 1. The last rose of summer. 
Studying to be a lady. "Bong jower, monseer!" 
" Whatever is the use of French when an Irish brogue 
and an Irish heart is waiting and ready to give you an 
Irish welcome?" Mr. Penny witt tries to propose. 
Colum and Terry visit Rose in her new home. " This is 
the happiest day of me whole life." A cloud on the hori- 
zon. Agnes suggests a quiet separation. Rose rebels. 
" I am the mistress here and I bid you leave my house ! " 
" 'Twas you who taught me the way of the world, my 



MY IRISH ROSE 



lady ; 'twas you who taught me how to fight, and I am 
going to w r in." Off to the ball with Terry. Act 
III. Scene 2. " Mavourneen! " A^ few hours later. 
Trouble impending. Eileen and Mr. Pennywitt return 
from the ball. " She was the hit of the season." Rose 
comes home. " This is my brother ! " The cloud van- 
ishes. "There's only one woman in the wide world for 
me, and it is you, Rose ; Rose o' my heart ! " 



LIST OF PROPERTIES 

Act I 

The old well with crank, bucket and rope. 

Bench in front of well. 

Another bench with a tub on it. 

A stool and a churn. 

Knitting in apron pocket for Ann Mary. 

Wild flowers for Rose. 

Easel, paint box and stool for Shawn. 

Coin for Maurice. 

Coin for Pepperdine. 



Act II 

A violin for the Fiddler. 

A partly knitted stocking in Ann Mary's pocket. 



10 MY IRISH ROSE 



Act I'll 

Boots, magazines on library table. 

Vase of long-stemfined red roses. 

Large chairs, couch, fireplace, palms, etc. 

Small hand-bell on table. 

Small book on table for Pegeen. 

Opera cloak for Pegeen. 

Pistol for Maurice. 



STAGE DIRECTIONS 

R. means right of stage ; C, center ; R. C, right 
center; L., left; 1 E., first entrance; £7. E. upper en- 
trance ; R. 3 E., right entrance up stage, etc. ; up stage, 
away from footlights; down stage, near footlights. 
The actor is supposed to be facing the audience. 



A1Y IRISH ROSE 



11 




bVd-Jl-J-J— I— J" 



ACTJI&2. 

Green carpet with scattered 'leaves in foreground. 'Landscape 'drop >at 'back 




ACT 3. 

7i dark. Library Interior. 

The above designs are merely offered as suggestions 
for the stage setting of this drama. It is not essential 
that amateurs should do more than.refer to them as an 
aid in their own presentation of the play. 



MY IRISH ROSE 



The First Act 
st. Patrick's day in the mornin' 

Scene: Colum McCormack's farm-yard on the 
outskirts of a village in County Kildare, Ireland. 
Small cottage dozen R. supposed to be the back-door 
of the McCormack farm-house. Trellis arbor over the 
cottage door. Wood wings down L. Landscape on 
back drop. About four feet from the back drop in a 
stone wall four feet high and having an entrance in 
the C. This entrance may be an old-fashioned wooden 
turnstile or a stone arch. Natural vines cling to the 
wall and cover the arbor over the cottage door. Pink 
paper roses may be attached to these natural vines with 
good effect. Branches of real trees may appear back 
of the wall and at the sides of the stage. By nailing 
these branches to the scenes and allowing them to over- 
hang the stage, the effect of a grove is gained. Down 
L. is a square well, made of a box painted to represent 
stones, with upright sticks, crank, bucket and rope. 
Bench in front of the well. Bench down li. with a tub 
on it. Stool at R. C. and churn. 

Lights on full. Bright music played loudly to take 
up the curtain, " The Wearing of the Green" or " The 
Kerry Dance" or similar lively tune. Shawn Mc- 
Gilly discovered seated on stage at L. of well, he 
is facing the audience. He is asleep and entirely 

13 



14 MY IRISH ROSE 



hidden from Ann Mary McCormack, who is seated on 
the stool working the churn and singing " The Wearing 
of the Green" or some other lively Irish air. The or- 
chestra music ceases after the curtain is well up, but 
Ann Mary continues singing for some time and churns 
in time to her music. After a pause, enter Pegeen 
Burke from cottage. She comes down C. 

Pegeen Burke. Plase, Miss Ann Mary, mum, I'm 
looking for Shawn McGilly. 

Ann Mary McCormack. It's likely you'll find him 
asleep in the hay, Pegeen Burke. 'Tis only ten o'clock 
in the morning, and never a lick of work does Shawn 
McGilly do before noon. 

Pegeen. And it's a shame, mum, that he's that 
lazy. Here's meself that has been workin' me two 
hands to the bone since I came from five o'clock mass, 
and on St. Patrick's day too. That man is a disgrace 
to the parish. If I had my way, I'd start him to work 
at noon and .kape him there until noon of the next day. 
I've done me duties in the house and am now ready to 
begin at the tubs, but niver a drop of water has he 
brought. (Crosses to rear, looks off L., puts hands to 
mouth and ijells at the top of her voice.) Shawn Mc- 
Gilly ! Shawn McGilly ! 

Ann Mary (churning). That will do, Pegeen; you 
may wake the Seven Sleepers, and you may blow the 
trump of dawn, but never a stir will you get from 
himself until noon. 

Pegeen (crosses to L. 1 E. and yells as before). 
Shawn McGilly! Shawn McGilly. (She starts to. 
come to C. and trips over Shawn's extended feet. He 
snores.) Oh, Miss Ann Mary, mum, will you look here? 

Ann Mary (rises and comes to C). It's himself. 
Wake him up. 



MY IRISH ROSE 15 

Pegeen (at L. of Shawn). Shawn, get up! Get 
up, ye porkavvn ! I want some water for me tubs. 
Shawn! (Shakes him.) 

Shawn. (Stirs uneasily and talks in his sleep.) 
Lave me alone, sure 'tis not daylight yet. 

Ann Mary returns to the churn. 

Pegeen. Not daylight? And the sun five hours 
high. Shawn, wake up ! 

Shawn. Give me another drink and make it a bigger 
one. (Turns and sleeps again.) 

Pegeen. He thinks I'm giving him a drink. And 
so I will. I'll give him a drink he'll long remem- 
ber. (Gets water from well and throws cupful in his 
face. ) 

Shawn (jumping up and gesturing as swimming). 
Help, help, murder, it's drownded in the sea I am. 
(Rubs eyes.) Oh, ho, it's you, is it, Pegeen Burke? 

Pegeen. (Angrily.) Yes, it's me, is it. 

Shawn. Sure I dramed of the angels calling me, and 
here I wake up and find the drame's come true. Away, 
Pegeen Burke, and let me drame again. 

Pegeen (threatens him with cup). And is it another 
dip in the sea you want? 

Shawn. It is not. Be off and lave a decent man to 
enjoy his well-earned rest. 

Ann Mary. Well-earned rest, indeed ! Here I've 
been looking for you for the past two hours to help 
me with me churning. 

Shawn (coming to C). Sure, mum, I've just been 
gatherin' me strength together to be lielpin' you. Give 
me the churn and I'll have the butter before you can 
twist the cat's tail. 



16 MY IRISH ROSE 

Ann Mary. A fine time of day it is for you to be 
offering to help me. The churning is done now. 
{Rises.) Here, carry it in the dairy. 

Shawn {trying to lift the churn). Yis, mum, I will 
that. 

Ann Mary. And then be off and fill the tubs for 
Pegeen. Here it is St. Patrick's day and scarce a thing 
done this mornin'. Fill the tubs. 

Shawn {dropping churn). Yis, mum. I will that, 
mum. {Starts to L.) 

Ann Mary. Wait. Take the churn in the dairy. 
{At C.) 

Shawn {trying to lift the churn). Yis, mum. Sure 
you tell me to do so many things at the same time, that 
I'm forgetting all of them. And what's more I can't 
lift the churn, it's that heavy. And if I can't lift it, 
then how can I carry it into the dairy? 

Ann Mary {sarcastically). Can't lift it? Perhaps 
you'd better be calling six or eight of the boys to help 
you carry it. Pegeen, this poor little fellow says he 
can't lift the churn. Maybe yourself would give him 
the help of a hand. 

Pegeen {crosses to churn). Can't lift it? Shawn 
McGilly, did you say that? 

Shawn. I did. Sure I can't work so early in the 
mornin'. 

Pegeen {picks up the churn and speaks to Shawn). 
Out of me way, me fine young lady. Sure if it's too 
tired you are to walk, I'll carry you and the churn 
together. {Crosses to door of cottage.) Miss Ann 
Mary, mum, put him to slape in his little bed, and cover 
him up and tuck the covers in. It's a swate little infant 
you are, Shawn McGilly. {Exit in cottage at R.) 

Ann Mary {seated in front of well, takes knitting 



MY IRISH ROSE 17 

from pocket and knits busily). Did you hear that 
now? 

Shawn (staring after Pegeen). It's a strong lass 
is Pegeen Burke and a healthy. And for work there's 
not her aqual in the parish, but her tongue it's sharper 
than a Michaelmas bog-wind. 

Ann Mary. And is it talking to yourself that you 
are, Shawn McGilly? Sure you'd better be saving 
your prayers. Be off now and fill the tubs for Pegeen, 
she's shamed you once this day. 

Shawn (at i?.). Small shame it was, Miss Ann 
Mary, mum. I could have carried that churn as easy 
as a feather, if I'd had the mind. But for what else 
was Pegeen standin' there? I'll fill the tubs for you 
gladly, mum, and then I'd like to ride over to the post- 
office beyant and see if there's a letter come from Mr. 
Terry in Americky. Sure he'd niver forget us on St. 
Patrick's day. 

Ann Mary. Rose went to the postoffice an hour ago. 
It's time she w r as home now. It's been over a fortnight 
since we've heard from the lad. Sure it's a lonesome 
day he's having over there with all the Indians and buf- 
faloes and wild men. And him never so far from home 
before. 

Shawn. But it's proud you should be of him, mum ; 
there's not a lad in the whole of Kildare would have 
done what he did. 

Ann Mary. And what reward did he get for it? 
Exiled to the wilds of Ameriky. It must be an awful 
place. The very name of the county he's in is Buffalo. 

Shawn. God send him safe home! 

Ann Mary. Amen to that. (Changes tone to brisk 
and business-like.) Shawn McGilly, will I have to 
wait all day for the tubs? 



18 MY IRISH ROSE 



Shawn. Work, work, work. It's a wonder I don't 
drop down dead some day from exhaustion. Yis, mum, 
I'm going, mum. (Exit R. slowly.) 

Ann Mary (knitting down L.). Sure if I did as 
little work as that man does, it's sitting down at the 
pianny I'd be the livelong day with no other thought 
than the curling of me hair and the eating of three or 
four square meals a day and the sleeping of me four- 
teen hours. I've no patience with him. 

Enter Widow Hannigan C. through gate in wall. 

Widow Hannigan (coming down C). And is it 
yourself, Ann Mary McCormack? 

Ann Mary (rises). Oonah Hannigan, you're a 
sight for sore eyes. (Shakes hands.) But why are 
you at the back door? 

Widow. I drove up the lane and saw you. I 
thought maybe you'd like to be driving to church with 
me, this being St. Patrick's day. 

Ann Mary. I was at church at five in the mornin'. 
Won't you come in the house and have a bite and a sup 
of tea? 

Widow. Thank you, no. Is your brother Colum 
about? 

Ann Mary. He's at the farm. And was it Colum 
you wanted to see? 

Widow. Oh, not in particular. But he wants to 
buy me horse and I thought he might look her over. 

Ann Mary. Won't you sit down? (They sit, Ann 
Mary at L.; Widow at R.) 

Widow. And what news have ye had from the boy in 
Americky? 

Ann Mary. Not a word the week. Rose has gone 
over to the postoffice now. 



MY IRISH ROSE 19 



Widow. 'Twas an awful thing, Ann Mary. 

Ann Mary. Are ye referring to me nephew, Mrs. 
Hannigan? 

Widow. I meant no offense, of course. 'Twas a 
patriotic thing he did, in standin' up for the ould sod, 
but I'm thinkin' he'd rather be back here than in Amer- 
iky. Maybe some o' them black Injuns will be scalpin' 
the lad — 'tis said they's as soon scalp ye as look at 
ye. Ameriky's an awful place, I'm hearin', Ann Mary. 

Ann Mary. I think Terry Creigan can be taking 
care of himself. 

Widow (drawing bench to C. and leaning toward 
Ann Mary). But tell me, allanah, about the rumpus 
in Dublin. I've never yet heard the straight of it. 
Did Terry actually strike his commanding officer? 

Ann Mary. He did not. Terry was only an Irish 
lieutenant and the captain was an Englishman. 

Widow. But he w r as his superior officer. 

Ann Mary (proudly). He was higher in rank, but 
not his superior. Terrence Creigan has no superior. 

Widow (sympathetically). The poor motherless 
boy ! 

Ann Mary. It was only a bit of hot tempered 
words. The Captain said that all Irish soldiers needed 
English officers to lead them. Of course no Creigan 
could stand that. 

Widow. Of course not. 

Ann Mary. So Terry up and told him what he 
thought of him. And he was court-martialed for in- 
subordination, or whatever they call it. And the cap- 
tain had the ear of the military court so of course Terry 
had no chance against him, an*d that's what drove him 
over to Americky. 

Widow. 'Twas his upbringing. Of course you and 



20 MY IRISH ROSE 



Colum did all you could for the two orphans, but what- 
ever does an old bachelor and an old maid know about 
the proper upbringing of children? 

Ann Mary (rises). Oonah Hannigan, you go too 
far. 

Widow. I meant no offense, Ann Mary, darling. 
Don't think that I'd be blaming you. Of course it isn't 
your fault that you are not married. 

Ann Mary (indignantly). An old inaid, is it? 
(Comes closer to Widow and shakes her finger at her.) 
Indeed, Oonah Hannigan, if I am an old maid, 'tis no- 
body's fault but me own. I had the refusing of 
your own Michael John Hannigan, and well you know 
it 

Widow. There, there, Ann Mary, I meant no of- 
fense. Of course the time was when you could have had 
the pick of the parish. And as for my own Michael 
John, God rest him, he proposed to half the girls in 
Kildare, after I had rejected him the first time. 

Ann Mary. Humph ! (A snort of disbelief. She 
resumes her seat and knitting.) 

Widow (continuing pleasantly). Many's the time 
and oft he said to me, " Oonah," says himself, " it's 
most blessed luck I've had all me days, to escape the wiles 
of all the girls who have refused me. Sure it's your- 
self that's like a fine pastry after a dinner of plain per- 
taties." 

Ann Mary. Plain pertaties, is it? Agra, he's like 
the fox and the grapes that hung out of his reach. He 
tried and he tried to get at them, and then the disap- 
pointed coppaleen told everyone that they were sour. 
But Michael John Hannigan is dead these twelve years, 
and you're his widow and, as you say, I'm an old maid. 



MY IRISH ROSE 21 

But there's them in the parish I wouldn't change places 
with, remember that now ! 

Widow. It's too bad, Ann Mary, that j r ou are giv- 
ing up the best years of your life to the upbringing of 
your niece. Here's you and your brother both of ye 
growing old in attendance upon her. 

Ann Mary (angrily). It's our own age, Oonah 
Hannigan. And isn't she our own sister's child, and 
the light of our lives and the rose of our hearts? 

Widow. That may well be, but it's time that you 
and your brother each had a houseful of children all 
your own. 

Ann Mary. I'll never leave Rose until she leaves 
me, and may all the saints ward off that fateful day. 

Widow. But your brother, Colum. It's a wife he 
should have. 

Ann Mary. You'd better be telling him so. He'd 
be right glad for the information. Now, whom would 
you suggest? A widow woman, most likely, with a 
farm of her own and money in the bank. 

Widow (smiles complacently). I see what you 
mean, Ann Mary. And it's not distasteful to me. 
And indade I wouldn't be a bad match for himself. But 
if there's any courting to be done, it must be done by 
Colum McCormack himself. Sorry a bit of advance 
will I make. 

Ann Mary. Me brother thinks no more of marry- 
ing than I do. 

Widow. If such a thing should come to pass, and he 
did marry a good wife with experience, she could take a 
hand in the upbringing of Rose herself. 

Ann Mary. It's out of the question. (Knits furi- 
ously.) 



22 MY IRISH ROSE 



Widow. And is it now? If I'd been the mistress of 
this place your nephew Terrence Creigan would now be 
a prosperous farmer, instead of a soldier lieutenant off 
in the wilds of Buffalo, Americky. 

Ann Mary (rises). Terrence Creigan may be an 
exile in the wilds of Americky, but he is the victim of an 
injustice; as brave a boy as ever wore the uniform, the 
stuff of which heroes are made, he fell afoul of some 
insignificant little military regilation; some officer who 
was not his equal in ability or patriotism wanted him 
out of the regiment. He had no gold, and he had no 
high estate, but he had an Irishman's love for his 
country. He had an Irishman's poetry and magnetism 
and sympathy ; those qualities make devoted friends or 
arouse jealousy. Terrence, poor boy, made some 
enemies. 

Widow. (After a pause.) Well, I've only told you 
what half the parish is saying. 

Ann Mary. Then half the parish, or all the parish, 
had better be minding its own business, and you may 
tell them so from me. 

Enter Colum McCormack from gate. He comes 
down between them. 

Colum McCormack. And what's going on here? Is 
it a ruction you're after having? 

Widow. It's nothing at all. (Rises.) I just told 
her what everyone was saying. (Cross to K.) 

Ann Mary. She said that Terry and Rose have not 
had the proper bringing up. 

Widow. Oh, no, I didn't mean that. I only meant 
that Colum here should get married and have an ex- 
perienced woman to look after them. 



MY IRISH ROSE 23 



Colum. Indade, and have jq the experienced woman 
to suggest, Oonah Hannigan? 

Widow. Now Colum, dear, don't be angry. Here's 
Terry off in Americky, and Rose running wild over the 
parish with that Dublin artist at her heels. 

Colum. {Loudly.) That will do. Oonah Hanni- 
gan, you are a neighbor and the widow of me old friend 
— but do not presume too far on friendship. 

Widow {beginning to cry). That's just the way 
with you. And when I meant it all for the best, too. I 
was only tryin' to give a bit of advice, and this is the 
way ye are rcceivin' it. And me an old friend, too ! 
Oh, wurra, a sorry St. Patrick's day you've made for 
me this day. {Cries.) 

Colum. And what are the people saying about my 
Rosie? {At L. C.) 

Widow. Oh, nothing to her discredit. They only 
say that she's allowed to do too much as she pleases, and 
that it's not good for a child of her age. 

Ann Mary {down L., belligerently). I wish some 
one would say something to me face. That I do ! 

Widow. I drove over to take you to church, Colum 
dear, and this is the way I'm trated. {Change tone to 
sharp.) You've been too easy with Terry and Rose, 
and well ye know it. You need a wife to look after you 
and to kape an eye on her. 

Colum. Oh, I do, do I? Rose needs no one to kape 
an eye on her. There's not a better girl in all Kildare. 

Widow {crosses up to gate). Well, think over what 
I've said. And remember that I've got money in the 
bank. 

Colum {at L. C). Is it proposing to me that you 
are? 

Widow {up C. indignantly). Indade and I am not. 



24 MY IRISH ROSE 



I never thought of such a thing. The idea ! I'd have 
you know that I'm not in the market. The idea ! (She 
flounces out C. indignantly.) 

Ann Mary. And now you've made her angry, Colum 
McCormack. And Oonah Hannigan is a good woman. 

Colum. Bother Oonah Hannigan for an old gossip- 
ing husband-hunter. 

Ann Mary. And it's what I've always been telling 
you. Our Rose has been spoilt. 

Colum. Well if she has, sure it's nobody's fault but 
your own. 

Ann Mary. Mine, is it? Listen to the man! 
When everybody in the village is criticizing you 

Colum. (Angrily.) That for the village. (Snaps 
fingers.) And that for the village! (Repeats this.) 
And that for the village! (Same action.) I brought 
up that boy and he's an honor to me and a credit to the 
whole county of Kildare. And I'm bringing up my 
Rosie to suit meself. And don't you meddle with what 
I'm doing. (Loudly.) You leave her alone, and leave 
me alone. (She has risen and shrinks from him.) Do 
ye hear me, you leave me alone! The girl's all right. 
And you are always nagging at her. You are, you 
know you arc. (She gasps.) What if she does run a 
bit wild, what harm is there in it? I come here to the 
house tired and paceful and here you are nagging at 
me. (She gasps.) I won't have it. Get out and leave 
me alone. (She crosses to cottage door.) And leave 
Rose alone, too. Get out. (Loudly.) Get out! 
(Ann Mary sobs in pantomime and exits into cottage. 
Colum crosses to door, it is slammed in his face; he 
yells.) You leave her alone, do you hear, leave her 
alone? (Pause.) I'm bringing up the child in my own 
way and will brook no interference. (Pause, then 



MY IRISH ROSE 25 



speaks lower.) She's me own sister's child and I know 
what I'm about. {He sits on stool near house, turns 
toward door as if waiting for Axx Mary to speak.) I 
know what I'm doing. (Not so loud.) I'm master 
here. (He looks at door uneasily. ■ Rises.) Always 
nagging at me when I'm in a paceful mood meself. 
(Starts toward well, turns and looks at door.) You 
let her alone. (Takes a step toward door.) Ann 
MaryJ (Calmly.) Ann Mary. (Pause, he crosses to 
door, opens it a bit and peers in, then calls.) Mary, 
sister ! 

Axx Mary (in house, speaks in weak, tearful voice). 
What is it? 

Colum. Come here. 

Axx Mary enters from house, crying; he meets her. 

Colum. There, there, Ann Mary, darlin'. (Takes 
her hand.) 

Axx Mary. I'll never say another word — 
(Sobs.) 

Colum. Now don't ye, don't ye ! It's a bit excited 
I was and — 

Axx Mary (tearfully). And will you promise to be 
paceful ? 

Colum. I am paceful. The most paceful man in 
Kildare. (Sits at R.) Now, sister darlin', sure we 
mustn't quarrel. 

Axx Mary. (Sits in front of well.) I'm sure I 
don't want to. 

Colum. (Smiles.) And now the storm is over. 
I'll own, maybe, that I'm not quite strict enough with 
Hose. 

Axx Mary. You are strict enough. You're, just 
right, whatever Oonah Hannigan may be saying. 



26 MY IRISH ROSE 



Colum. Where is Rosie? Maybe I'd better be giv- 
ing her a little talking to. 

Ann Mary. She's gone to the postoffice. Maybe 
that's what she needs, a little talking to. But she al- 
ways wheedles us and can twist the both of us around 
her little finger. 

Colum. I'll speak to her. I'll speak to her gravely 
and sternly like a father should. This young artist is 
w r ith her too much. He's been here two months and I'm 
thinking his twdsted ankle must be well by this time. 

Ann Mary. Sure I think his heart is twisted w r orse 
than his ankle. 

Colum. I'll speak to the both of 'em. This picture 
painting has turned the girl's head. I'll be strict and 
stern. Leave it to me. I'll speak to me fine young 
lady and tell her w^hat's w r hat. 

Ann Mary. That's right, Colum, tell her what the 
people of the parish are saying. Speak to her soundly. 

Colum. Did she ride to the postoffice? 

Ann Mary. She did. On the roan mare. And 
she's been gone too long already. I'm that worried. 
There's half a dozen tinker men squatted in the quarry. 

(The sound of a galloping horse is heard off L.) 

Colum (crosses up to gate and looks off L.). Here 
she comes now. And galloping across the fields. She's 
riding like the wind. 

Ann Mary (crossing up to him, standing at his R. 
and looking off L.). My, look at her ride! That girl 
will break her neck some day. 

Colum. Not my Rosie. There's not a better horse- 
woman in all Ireland. 

Ann Mary. But why does she cut across the fields? 
Why don't she keep to the road? 

Colum (loudly). Why, do ye ask? Because she is 



MY IRISH ROSE 27 



Rose Creigan, and she only knows one road in all the 
world, and that is a straight one, straight to our hearts. 

Rose {heard outside L.). Here, Shawn, Paddy? 
Mike, take the mare! Nunkie, where's Nunkie? 

Colum. Do ye hear that now? Not on the ground 
two minutes and she's calling for me. 

Axx Mary {comes down to seat in front of well). 
Remember, you promised to be stern with her. 

Colum. {Coming down in front of cottage.) And 
that I will. Leave it all to me. 

Rose Creigan {heard off L.). Nunkie, and where 
are you hiding? Nunkie, Nunkie! 

Rose Creigan enters gate with her arms full of wild 
flowers. 

Colum. Here I am. 

Rose {drops -flowers, rushes to Colum, grasps his 
two hands and whirls him around). Oh, 3 r ou should 
have been with me. I had the ride of me life. And a 
letter. And a letter from me brother. He's well, and 
he misses us, and he don't like Americky at all, at all, 
and it's coming home he is. 

Axx Mary. Coming home? 

Rose {rushes to Axx Mary). Here's the letter, 
darlin'. Read it. He sends you a thousand kisses, 
and says that there's not a girl in all Americky as 
sweet and dear to him as you are. 

Axx Mary. {Delighted, she takes the letter.) 
Blarney, blarney. Where's me spectacles? Where are 
they? Colum, don't stand there staring like an owl in a 
bog, get me spectacles. Let me see what the dear boy 
has said. {Crosses to door of cottage.) I'm going in 
to read the letter. Now's your chance, Colum, speak to 
her. And remember to be stern. Where's me spec- 



28 MY IRISH ROSE 



tacles? Pegeen Burke, find me spectacles for me. 
Pegeen, I say. (Exits into cottage.) 

Rose (picks up flowers and comes to Colum). And 
see what I've brought ye, Nunkie darlin'. Posies wet 
with the dew of St. Patrick's mornin'. 

Golum (sternly). Rose, come here. 

Rose. I am here. (Innocently.) And where did 
ye think I was? 

Colum. I want to speak to you seriously. 

Rose. Do ye now? Wait a moment until I pin this 
bit of a wild-rose onto your coat. All the girls will be 
crazy after you at the St. Patrick frolic this afternoon, 
You're the finest looking man in the village. 

Colum. Rose, where is Mr. Fitzgerald? 

Rose. Never a know do I know. Pie said he'd be 
over this morning to finish painting me picture. 

Colum. I'm thinking and your aunt is thinking and 
(savagely) half the parish is thinking that he's with 
you too much. 

Rose. Sure, I'm thinking that meself. And so I 
told him. Says I, " 'Tis over two months since your 
ankle was twisted and you walk with a limp just for an 
excuse to be lingering here." Says he : " It's the truth, 
I want to be near you." Says I : " It's foolish you 
must be." Says he: "Foolish with love for you." 
And with that I run away, for there seemed nothing left 
for me to do. 

Colum. And what did he do? 

Rose (pretending to think). Let me see. What did 
he do? I don't remember exactly what he did do, but I 
think he ran after me. 

Colum. This affair must stop right here. It's 
gone far enough. 

Rose. Faith, I'm thinking it's gone too far already. 



MY IRISH ROSE 29 



CoirUM. This Mr. Fitzgerald is one of the richest 
men in all Dublin and a gentleman to boot. 

Rose. And what if he is? 

Colum. You are only a little country Rose. 

Rose. I'm a Creigan, a Creigan of Kildare, and a 
Creigan of Kildare is as good as any Fitzgerald that 
ever walked. Mind that, now ! 

Colum. Yes, but he is only flirting with you. 

Rose. And maybe it's on my side that the flirting is. 

Colum. I have given you your own way too much. 
I haven't been stern enough with you. 

Rose. And are you going to lecture me on St. 
Patrick's Day? If you must be stern with me, wait till 
tomorrow. Come into the house and we'll have a bite 
and a sup and then you'll take me off to the frolic. 
And all the girls will say, " Will you look at the fine 
young fellow that Rose Creigan has this day." And 
the music will play. {Hums tune.) And I'll dance — 
and you'll stand opposite me like that, only you'll be 
laughing fit to kill, and you'll dance and we'll both dance 
together. Come on, now. (Sings and dances.) The 
other way ! Hurray ! (Sings and dances and swings 
him around.) And we'll be the merriest, happiest 
couple at the frolic. 

Colum (releasing himself). Have done with ye! 
Sure the whole parish is saying that ye twist me around 
your little finger. 

Rose. I don't. I don't twist ye at all. I just 
smile, and you're so good natured that you just seem 
to fall around me little finger. That's all there is to it. 

Enter Pegeen from cottage. 

Pegeen (coming to Colum). Mr. McCormack, sor, 



30 MY IRISH ROSE 



the boys are after waitin' in the room for their week's 
wages. 

Colum. Tell them I'll be there immediately. 

Pegeen. Yis, sor, I will, sor. (Exits into cot- 
tage.) 

Colum. I'll have another talk with you, me lady. 
And I'll warrant you'll not twist me around your finger 
then. 

Rose. Now, you're angry. (Pause.) Yes, you 
are. I know you are because you won't smile. And 
you don't love me any more. (Pause.) And I wish I 
was across the sea with me darlin' brother in the wilds 
of Buffalo, Americky, I do. He loves me, at least. 
(Pause.) He'll smile at me, sometimes. (Pause.) 
Nunkie, be good to me. (He smiles and holds out his 
arms.) I knew it, I knew it. (Runs into his arms.) 
Now you're not going to scold me any more. What do 
we care for what the parish says? Now, run along, 
and pay off the men. Then we'll go to the frolic. 

Colum. Rose, allanah, you've your own mother's 
ways with you. Sure I don't care if you twist me 
around every finger ye have in the world. I love ye 
more than all the earth. 

Rose. I know ye do. But run along now and pay 
the men. 

Colum. I'll do it. And we'll be the finest looking 
couple at the frolic. (Exit into cottage.) 

Rose (slips off cloak and drops flowers, arranges 
stool in front of well). Now, I've got to get ready to 
have me picture painted. Mr. Fitzgerald should be 
here by now. Mr. Fitzgerald ! Maurice ! Maurice 
Fitzgerald, what a pretty name that is — Maurice Fitz- 
gerald ! I wonder how it would seem to be called Mrs. 
Maurice Fitzgerald. 



MY IRISH ROSE 31 

(Maurice Fitzgerald is heard off L. singing " Peg o 9 
My Heart " substituting the word " Rose " for the 
word " Peg." If this song is not available he may sing 
"My Wild Irish Rose" or some similar Irish love 
song. ) 

Rose. My, what's all that noise. Sure, the pigs 
must have broken into the garden. (Listens.) It 
sounds like someone was in distress. (Singing con- 
tinues nearer.) I'll sit here and pretend that I don't 
hear it. (Sits R.) My, what a lovely voice he has. 
No, I think I'll sit over here and pretend to be asleep. 
(Crosses to L., sits and feigns sleep.) 

Enter Maurice Fitzgerald from gate; he walks with 
a cane and limps slightly. He comes down C. and 
watches Rose as he finishes chorus of song. Enter 
Shawn McGilly carrying easel, paint box, awkwardly. 
He comes down R.) 

Maurice Fitzgerald. Will you look at that? 
The sleeping beauty. 

Shawn. Yis, sor; and I wish I was sleepin' meself. 

Maurice. Here, put the easel down here. (At C.) 
And the stool, here. (Places stool near easel.) And 
the paints here! (On stool.) And yourself in the 
house. (Gives him coin.) 

Shawn. (Bites coin.) Long life to yer honor, and 
may all your troubles in life be little ones. (Crosses to 
door of cottage at R.) I think I'll go in now and see 
if I cannot get some sleep. Sure, I've been hard at 
work since four o'clock in the mornin'. (Exit R., 
yawning. ) 

Maurice (looks at Rose). It's time to begin work 
on the picture and here she is asleep! (Shakes her 
gently.) Rose, Rose, wake up ! 



32 MY IRISH ROSE 



Rose. Is it yourself, Maurice Fitzgerald? 

Maurice. It is — and you were asleep. 

Rose. And do you know of no other way to wake a 
young girl except by shakin' the breath out of her 
body? 

Maurice. Why, let me see — I might have awak- 
ened her with a kiss. 

Rose. Oh, I think I'll go to sleep again. (Pre- 
tends to sleep.) 

Maurice (coming to her). Then I would awaken 
you like this- — (Starts to kiss her.) 

Rose (merrily boxes his ears). And I would reward 
you like this ! 

Maurice. Rose, Rose, it's a wild-rose you'll be until 
your death, there's no taming you. 

Rose. Maybe you are not a good tamer. But if we 
are to have any picture painting today, let's begin. 
This afternoon is to be a St. Patrick's Day frolic and 
sorry a bit of painting will I let you do then. 

Maurice. Very well, let us begin. Take the pose. 

Rose. Must I pose the same way I did yesterday? 

Maurice. Yes. Right over here. (She poses by 
well, he begins to paint.) 

Rose. How is this? (Poses.) 

Maurice. That's just right. The expression is 
perfect. Hold it ! Don't move. (Paints rapidly.) 

Rose (after a slight pause). Can't I move at all? 

Maurice. Not at all. Don't speak. It's simply 
perfect. That wild rose in your hair just matches the 
pink of your cheeks. I'll call the picture an Irish Rose. 
(Paints as he speaks.) Or maybe My Wild Irish Rose. 
Chin up, just a little; not too much — there! I have 
it. I'll call it Rose o' my Heart. The color is divine 
and the face is that of a goddess. And the dark shad- 



MY IRISH ROSE 33 



ows in your hair and the deep violets in your eyes. 
Rose, I wonder if you know how beautiful you are. 
(Quickly.) Don't speak. Hold the pose. 

Rose (desperately). I've got to sneeze. 

Maurice. Do wild roses sneeze? 

Rose. Sure they do ; whenever their noses begin to 
tickle. 

Maurice. Rose, you are the most beautiful girl in 
all the world. 

Rose. There, you've flattered all the sneeze away 
from me. I couldn't sneeze now if I wanted to. 

Maurice. All ready now. Take the same position. 

Rose. Must it be the same old position? And why 
couldn't I be after turnin' around the other way, just 
for a bit of a rest? 

Maurice (painting). I'm not making a moving pic- 
ture. I've got to finish as I began. 

Rose. Then I'm sure I wish it was a moving picture. 
Then I could jump down like this. (Does so.) And 
skip across the turf like this, and maybe be pickin' a 
wee bit of a posey, like this. 

Maurice. But I can't paint you that way. I'm an 
artist, not a photographer. 

Rose. I wonder if you could make a tin-type of me. 
I'd love to have you make a tin-type and then everybody 
would know it was me. A man took a tin-type picture 
of me last year. I was standing by the cow and just 
as he took the picture what did the old cow do, but 
shake her tail a half dozen times. It's a lovely picture 
of me, but the owld cow has seven tails. Larry Fin- 
nigan gave the man sixpence for the picture and nailed 
it up over his bed. Sure he must have been awfully fond 
of the owld cow. 

Maurice. I'm thinking it was you he was so fond of. 



34 MY IRISH ROSE 



Rose. Are you now? {Innocently.) Do you 
ralely think that a young man could be fond of me? 

Maurice. It wouldn't be impossible. 

Rose. But not very probable. (She comes and 
looks over his shoulder at the picture.) What's that 
thing there? (Points at picture.) 

Maurice. That's a dimple. 

Rose. And have I got that? More than likely it's 
a bunch of freckles. And see the name you've put un- 
der the picture. Rose o' my Heart ! Does that mean 
me? 

Maurice. No one else. 

Rose. Ain't that nice, now? And there are so many 
prettier girls in the parish. There's Monica Morarity 
and Katie Flynn and Ellen Blake and little Bell Fla- 
herty. Bell's a very beautiful girl, Mr. Fitzgerald. 
She has red hair and light blue eyes. (Pause.) Now 
most men are fond of red hair and light blue eyes. 
(Pause.) Are you fond of that style of beauty, Mr. 
Fitzgerald? 

Maurice. I adore it. Especially the hair. 

Rose. (Tosses head and crosses to R.) Oh, ye do, 
do ye? Then I'd better be goin'. Maybe it's little 
Bell Flaherty that you can get to paint her picture. 
And every one in the whole parish knows she squints. 
(Pause.) So you are especially fond of red hair, are 
you ? 

Maurice. I am fond of red hair, but it's nothing 
to be compared to black hair and blue eyes like 
yours. 
' Rose. Blarney, it's laying it on thick you are. 

Maurice. (Catching her hand.) It's the truth, 
Rose. Rose o' my Heart! It's you I want, it's you 
I've longed for all my life. 



MY IRISH ROSE 35 



Rose. And you never laid your two eyes on me until 
two months ago. 

Maurice. I have lived an eternity in that time. 

Rose. I'm sorry the time has seemed so long to you. 

Maurice. Because in that time I have learned to 
hope, to dream of winning the real happiness, the one, 
true, deep unchangeable love of my life. 

Rose. Go on, don't stop there. 

Maurice. You have taught me to forget the shams 
and hypocrisy of the world, to know the difference be- 
tween real and fancied love. Say what you will, I can 
only repeat that I love you, and that I shall love you 
always, w r hether you care for me or not, always, always, 
Rose o' my Heart ! 

Rose. My, I never saw your like for eloquence or 
talk at all. But I don't think you ought to speak to 
me like this. In fact, I'm almost positive ^that you 
should not — and I don't think me uncle would like it 
at all. 

Maurice. He must like it. If you are sure that 
you care for me — 

Rose. But I'm not sure. Sometimes I think I do — 

Maurice {eagerly). Yes? 

Rose {tartly). And then sometimes I think I don't. 

Maurice. Why are you so cruel to me? Surely 
you must care for me a little. Tell me, Rose allanah, 
that you'll marry me. 

Rose. Indeed I won't. At least — not yet. It's 
all so sudden and so unexpected. Sure and I'm not ac- 
customed to this sort of thing at all. 

Maurice. {Talcing her hand.) Say the one little 
word to make me happy. 

Rose {mischievously) . Will any little, old word do? 

Maurice. Say " yes," Rose. 



36 MY IRISH ROSE 



Rose. And suppose I say no. What then? 

Maurice (slowly). Why — then — then I would 
go away. 

Rose (eagerly). Oh, I don't want you to go away. 

Maurice. It's " yes " then? 

Rose. Yes. (Gives him her two hands.) 

Maurice. And now, won't you kiss me? 

Rose. Kiss you? No, I don't think I will. In all 
my life I've kissed so very few men. I don't think I'd 
like it. So if I can't be engaged to you without kissing, 
sure it's not engaged at all I'll be. 

Maurice (sighs). It shall be as you wish. 

Rose. And you don't mind? 

Maurice. Am I a stick or a stone, do you think? 
You are heartless — you are utterly indifferent to me. 

Rose. I don't believe in kissing. And just look at 
your arm. 

Maurice. Do you object? 

Rose. Not very much. And if I did, wouldn't you 
overrule the objection? 

Maurice. And you do care for me? 

Rose. I do, I do. 

Maurice. Then — (taking her in his arms). 

Rose. Oh, somebody is coming. (Jumps away.) 
No, I don't think they are at all. What were we talk- 
ing about? 

Maurice. I was talking — I was saying — (Takes 
her in his arms.) 

Enter Colum from house at R. 

Colum. Rose, what is the meaning of this? 
Rose. The meaning, uncle? (Comes close to him, 
cocks her head and looks up at him.) Sure I think 



MY IRISH ROSE 37 



the meaning is that you came in several minutes before 
you were expected. 

Colum. Sir, I must ask you to explain. 

Maurice. I was just asking Miss Creigan to be- 
come my wife. 

Rose (at i?.). And I was just telling him I would if 
you had no objections. 

Maurice (at L.). And you will give us your con- 
sent, Mr. McCormack, won't you? 

Rose. Because if you don't, I'll never get married 
at all, at all, but live and die at your expense, an old 
maid. 

Colum (at R. C). Rose, darlin', are you so anxious 
to leave us? 

Rose. No, I am not. But Mr. Fitzgerald could 
coax the blossoms off the tree. 

Colum. I'll go in and speak to me sister about this. 
Now mind, I don't give you any encouragement. But 
(smiles) maybe we can arrange things to suit your con- 
venience. Rose, go to the foot of the grove and blow 
the horn for dinner. 

Maurice. Then I may have some hope, sir? 

Colum. I'll speak to me sister. (Exit into house 
at R.) 

Rose. It's as good as settled. And I'll have to set- 
tle down and be married. Oh, dear ! 

Maurice. You sigh? I don't believe that you want 
to marry me after all. 

Rose. (Quickly.) Oh, yes, I do. But I hate to 
leave me uncle and me aunt and this little village that I 
have always known and loved. I'm afraid of the big- 
ness of Dublin where all the houses are stuck close to- 
gether, like that! (Slaps hands.) And where I can't 
gallop over the fields and do as I like at all. 



38 MY IRISH ROSE 



Maurice. You may gallop over all the fields you 
please. 

Rose. But you live in a grand hotel, don't you? 

Maurice. Not at all. It's a fine old house on the 
outskirts of the town, and we have twelve acres of 
ground. 

Rose (astonished). Twelve acres of ground in 
Dublin City? My, my! And how large is the 
house? 
' Maurice. I think there must be about thirty rooms. 

Rose (decisively). I'll not marry you. 

Maurice. Rose ! 

Rose. I'll not scrub and take care of thirty rooms 
for any man that ever lived. 

Maurice. (Laughs.) Oh, that won't be neces- 
sary. We have servants. 

Rose. But how can a couple of servants take care 
of thirty rooms and twelve acres of ground? 

Maurice. A couple of servants? We have at least 
twenty. 

Rose. Twenty? Twenty? You're only foolin' me. 

Maurice. Not at all. It's the truth. 

Rose. Twenty servants? My, my! But it's a lot 
of money you must have. Maybe I'm after marrying 
the Lord Mayor of Dublin? 

Maurice. You're only after marrying poor 
Maurice Fitzgerald, artist. 

Rose. And I wouldn't trade you for any other man 
in the whole w T orld, mind that now ! But with all your 
fine friends and relations in the city, it's ashamed you'll 
be of me and me country w r ays. 

Maurice. Never. With your face and your grace 
you'll be the hit of the season. 

Rose. And me brogue, don't forget me brogue. 



MY IRISH ROSE 39 



Maurice. You're equal to a queen upon her golden 
throne. (Attempts to embrace her.) 

Rose. ( Withdraws to down R.) I think I'd better 
be calling the boys to dinner. 

Enter Pegeen from cottage at R. She comes down 
C. 

Pegeen (to Maurice who is at L. C). Mister Fitz- 
gerald, sor, there is a man in the house to see you, sor. 

Maurice. A man to see me? Are you sure he 
wants to see me, Pegeen? 

Pegeen. I am that, sor. Mr. Fitzgerald, says him- 
self, as plain as pikestaff. 

Maurice. And is he a gentleman from the city? 

Pegeen. I think he is, sor. He's all dressed in 
black and wears a big black shiny hat. 

Maurice. Ask him to step out here. 

Pegeen. Out here, is it, sor? In the barnyard? 

Maurice. Yes 5 this will do very well. Then we will 
not interfere with the boys at their dinner. Some 
agent, I suppose. Bring him here. 

Pegeen. Yes, sor, I will that, sor. (Exit into cot- 
tage at R.) 

Rose. And now I'll be calling the boys to dinner. 
(Crosses to L.) 

Maurice. But that kiss you promised me? 

Rose. You'll have to catch me first. (Dodges 
around well.) 

Maurice. It's not fair, and me with a twisted foot. 
(Follows her.) 

Rose. The kisses will keep. I'll be back in a few 
minutes. (Laughs and runs out L. as — ) 

Pegeen enters from cottage at R., followed by 
Michael Pepperdine. 



40 MY IRISH ROSE 

Pegeen (points to Maurice who is at L.). And 
there he is, sor, as you can see for yourself. 

Michael Pepperdine (comes down C). Thank 
you, my good girl. (Gives her a coin.) 

Pegeen (at /?.). You're entirely welcome, sor, as 
the widdy-woman said when the circus clown kissed her. 
(Crosses to cottage door.) Yis, sor! (Exits R.). 

Pepperdine. Mr. Fitzgerald, Maurice ! 

Maurice. Why, Mr. Pepperdine, is it you? 
(Shakes hands.) What brings you to Kildare? 

Pepperdine. Yourself. I have been searching over 
all of East Ireland for you for the past fortnight. 

Maurice. I've been here a couple of months. I 
sprained my ankle in a hole — - 

Pepperdine. Indeed. (Comes closer to him.) I 
have sad news for you, my boy. 

Maurice. Sad news, is it? Not Eileen? Nothing 
has happened to Eileen? 

Pepperdine. Oh, no ; your sister is quite well. 

Maurice (with a sigh of relief). Thank Heaven for 
that ! 

Pepperdine. It's your cousin — 

Maurice. Not Miles? 

Pepperdine. No, not Miles, but Sir Harry Fitzger- 
ald, your father's cousin. 

Maurice. I know Sir Harry only slightly. I 
haven't seen him for years. 

Pepperdine. He is dead. He was thrown from his 
favorite horse two weeks ago last Sunday. 

Maurice. Was he now? Poor old man ! 

Pepperdine. And dying without issue the entire 
family estate and title revert to you as the next of kin. 

Maurice. To me? 

Pepperdine. You are now Sir Maurice Fitzgerald. 



MY IRISH ROSE 41 

Maurice. Is it possible? Poor Sir Harry, poor 
lonely old bachelor ! 

Pepperdixe. My car is here ; you must return with 
me to Dublin. 

Maurice. Return to Dublin? Right away? (Din- 
ner horn heard in distance.) 

Pepperdixe. At once. 

Maurice. Oh, but I'm afraid that is impossible. 

Pepperdixe. If you have entirely recovered from 
your sprain — 

Maurice. Sure I wasn't thinking of my sprain. In 
fact, Mr. Pepperdine, I am thinking of something en- 
tirely different. You see, I have a — , that is, there is 
a young lady here — that is, well I can't go at once. 

Pepperdixe. Oh, I understand. Some village col- 
leen ? 

Maurice. Yes, the most delightful girl in all the 
world. I have asked her to become my wife. 

Pepperdixe. To become Lady Fitzgerald? 

Maurice. I didn't know then that I was a baronet. 

Pepperdiste. Is it one of the Burns girls? I be- 
lieve they have an estate somewhere in this vicinity. 

Maurice. No, it isn't anyone you would know. 
She is a Miss Creigan, the niece of Colum McCormack, 
the owner of this farm. 

Pepperdixe. The niece of a farmer? Oh, Sir 
Maurice ! 

Maurice. And as sweet a girl as ever breathed and 
a lady if there ever was one. 

Pepperdixe. Maurice, your father was my best 
friend, my father and my father's father have served 
your family for generations; I hope you will not think 
that I am overstepping my bounds as your friend when 
I beg of you to reconsider this offer of marriage. The 



42 MY IRISH ROSE 



young lady may be all you say she is, but think of the 
disparity in your stations. Surely you would not link 
the name of a simple country lass with that of the illus- 
trious Fitzgerald? You have no father, no mother, 
let me stand in their stead, and plead with you to break 
off this entanglement. 

Maurice. I have asked Miss Creigan to become my 
wife. 

Pepperdixe. But now that you have succeeded to 
the title, now that you — 

Enter Rose from L., she comes dozen L. to Maurice. 

(Music an Irish love song until end of act.) 

Rose (not seeing Pepperdixe). I have called the 
men to dinner and now we're all ready to go in. 

Maurice (proudly and clearly). Mr. Pepperdine, 
allow me to present Miss Creigan, my affianced wife. 

Pepperdixe. But, Sir Maurice — 

Maurice (loudly). My affianced wife, the future 
Lady Fitzgerald! 

Pepperdixe stands at C, frowning. Maurice at 
L. C. with head held high, and Rose at L., looking at 
them in surprise. 

Curtain 



MY IRISH ROSE 

The Second Act 
the kerry dance 

Scene: The same as Act I and on the same day. 
Time about 3:00 p. m. The curtain rises to bright 
music, " The Kerry Dance," by Molloy, or some other 
Irish jig. The stage is bare, but voices are heard off 
L. singing the song that takes up the curtain. Also 
laughter and loud talking off^L. 

Enter from gate at C. Rose, Maurice, Ann Mary, 
Colum, Pegeen, Shawn, Widow, and a group of lads 
and lassies and lastly an old fiddler or piper. These 
characters all have hands joined and come dancing mer- 
rily m and make a complete circle of stage, all singing, 
etc. A large circle is formed with Rose and Maurice 
in Center and old Fiddler fiddling down L. They 
dance around the engaged couple singing. Music stops. 
Ann Mary sinks in chair down L. 

Ann Mary. Oh, wurry, let me get me breath ! I'm 
too old for such foolishness. 

Colum. Nonsense, Ann Mary, you've the lightest 
foot of any girl in the village. 

Pegeen {down R.). Shawn McGilly, you've walked 
all over me feet. I never saw such a clumsy lout in all 
me life. You've mashed me feet entirely. 

Shawn. Come on, let's have another one. Get your 
partners. We'll dance the Kerry dance. 

Girls. Oh, yes. Come on! 

Boys. The Kerry, the Kerry! 

43 



44 MY IRISH ROSE 



Shawn. Take your places. 

(All form for a square dance \ using one or two sets 
according to size of the stage. Shawn calls quadrdle. 
Fiddler plays. They dance. Note: Do not prolong 
this dance. Eight figures are sufficient.) 

Widow (after dance). And now we must go. 

First Boy. Long life to the engaged pair. 

All. Hurray ! 

Shawn. To Mr. Fitzgerald and Miss Rose! The 
bravest lad and the prettiest girl in all Kildare. 

Maurice. My friends, I thank you. 

Shawn. He thanks us. If you're about to make a 
speech, Mr. Fitzgerald, make it a short one. 

Pegeen. Shawn McGilly, hold your tongue. 

Maurice. I'll make no speech. I'll only say that 
I'm the happiest and luckiest man in all Ireland. 

All. Hurray ! 

First Boy. Good-bye, sor, and long life to you. 

(Rose, Maurice, Ann Mary, Colum and Pegeen 
shake hands with Boys and Girls as they exeunt at 
center gate.) 

Ann Mary. (Coming down R. briskly.) Come, 
Pegeen, be stirring, we've frolicked half the day al- 
ready. Shawn, there's work to be done. 

Shawn. More work. I've worked so hard now that 
I have scarce strength to stand. 

Colum. Shawn, come with me. We must look at 
the stables. (Exit L. 1 E.) 

Shawn. Yes, sor, I'm coming, sor. (Makes no 
move.) 

Ann Mary. Stir yourself, Shawn McGilly. 

Shawn. Stir meself, is it? And me already half 
dead with work. 



MY IRISH ROSE 45 



Ann Mary. And what have you been doing the day? 

Shawn. What, do you ask? Sure there's not a 
man on the whole place, no nor any two of 'em, that 
could do the work I've done this day. 

Pegeen (dozen R.). Listen to the man! 

Shawn. What with weeding the garden and mend- 
ing the pony-chaise, and working «on the chicken house 
and picking the beans, and with a sick cow on me 
hands and four well ones, and two horses and a pony, 
and the whole place to look after, it's little time I've had 
to do anything else. 

Pegeen. You've been asleep and dreamed all this. 

Shawn. Never a dream. I'm a hard worked man, 
Miss Ann Mary, mum, so I am, mum. 

Ann Mary. You've loafed and slept and danced 
the livelong day. (Shawn goes to sleep standing up.) 
And it's Pegeen and myself who have done the work 
this morning. And you've done nothing but waste the 
time. I've no patience with you. (She looks at him,) 
And look at him now ! Standin' there asleep while I'm 
talking to him. (Takes stocking from her pocket and 
hits him with it across head.) Right before me very 
face. Did you hear what I said? 

Shawn (awakens). Ivery word. Yes, mum. And 
I'm of the same opinion as yourself. 

Ann Mary. Be off with you and get some water for 
Pegeen. 

Shawn. I'm going immediately. Will you come 
with me, Pegeen darlin', and help me wid the lift of 
the bucket? 

Pegeen. Of all things! (Tosses her head.) Me 
carry water for you? I will not. 

Ann Mary. Of course she won't. Be a man, Shawn 
McGilly, and do a man's work. 



46 MY IRISH ROSE 

Maurice (who has been standing near the wall and 
talking to Rose, comes down C). Come along, Shawn, 
I'll help you. 

Shawn. Long life to you, sor. I knew someone 
would help me. 

Maurice. Come along, then. (Takes his arm and 
runs him off L. 1 E.) 

Ann Mary. Pegeen, go in and see to the baking. 

Pegeen. Yes, mum. (Crosses to door at R., 
turns.) Sooner than marry a man as lazy as himself, 
I'd go down single to me grave. Yes, mum, I would 
that. (Exit R.) 

Ann Mary (sits down L. in front of well and knits). 
Rose, darlin', why are you so still? 

Rose. I'm that happy, Aunt Ann Mary, that I can't 
talk. There's only one thing that troubles me. 
(Comes to her and kneels at her feet.) 

Ann Mary. And what's that, mavourneen? 

Rose. It's about me brother Terry. Never a word 
does Mr. Fitzgerald know about him, at all. 

Ann Mary. And it's just as well. Poor Terry is 
a hero to us and to all good sons of Kildare, but Mr. 
Fitzgerald belongs to the gentleman class and who 
knows what his prejudices may be? To him our Terry 
may seem like a rebel. 

Rose. Yes, it's true. Me poor brother is disgraced. 
And for what? Did he ever steal — or lie, or commit 
murder? He only insisted on the right of freemen of 
every nation to free speech. And what did they do, 
but put the black mark on him for it? And him a 
brave soldier. Oh, it's cruel, darlin', cruel. 

Ann Mary. There was no crime against him. 

Rose. No, but it drove him to Americky for all that. 
My brother, a Creigan of Kildare, an exile. 



MY IRISH ROSE 47 

Ann Mary. What's done cannot be undone, but you 
tell your Mr. Fitzgerald niver a word. 

Rose. But is it right for a wife to keep anything 
from a husband? 

Ann Mary. What your husband don't know won't 
hurt him, remember that now ! 

Rose (rises). I'll go and find Maurice. 

Ann Mary. And remember, never a word about 
Terry. 

Rose. I'll do as you bid me. But, oh, I do wish me 
darlin' brother could be here for me wedding. (Cross 
to L. 1 E. and turn. ) Then I'd be the happiest girl in 
all Ireland. (Exit L. 1 E.) 

Enter Pegeen from the house with white pumps in 
her hand. 

Pegeen. Miss Ann Mary, mum! 

Ann Mary. And what is it now, Pegeen Burke? 

Pegeen. It's these w T ee bits of shoes, mum. Does 
Miss Rose want me lo be clanin' them, too? 

Ann Mary. Of course she does. Wash them and 
dry them and then put on some white polish and leave 
them be. Thej^'re pumps. 

Pegeen (slowly and stupidly). What are they, 
mum ? 

Ann Mary. Pumps. Pumps to wear on your feet. 

Pegeen (stupidly). Pumps to w r ear on your feet, 
is it? (Giggles.) Pumps. 

Ann Mary. Of course. Did you never see a lady's 
pump before? 

Pegeen. I've seen pumps, but whether they was 
lady pumps or man pumps, never a know do I know. 
But never did I hear a shoe called a pump before. 

Ann Mary. The} T 're dancing pumps. 



48 MY IRISH ROSE 



Pegeen. Dancing pumps? Since people have be- 
gun wearin' pumps on their feet, sure I'm thinking 
they'll be wearin' tubs on their heads next. Pumps ! 
(Giggles.) If them are pumps, maybe these that I do 
be wearing are called cisterns. (Giggles and sits R. 
polishing the slippers.) 

Ann Mary. Sure, she gets worse and worse every 
day she lives. Between her and Shawn McGilly it's 
worn to the grave I'll be. 

Enter Shawn McGilly running from L. 1 E. He 
runs down C. Ladies rise. 

Pegeen. Will ye look at Shawn ! 

Ann Mary. Shawn McGilly, man and boy I've 
known you forty year, but never before have I seen you 
run. 

Shawn. Let me get me breath. Oh, Miss Ann 
Mary, please mum, you ought to see what's beyant 
the hedge. It's the divil's own doings I've seen this 
day. 

Pegeen. Oh, what is it? What is it? 

Ann Mary. What has frightened you? 

Shawn. It was a big jaunting-car, mum, as big as 
twenty churches, and it was running along down the 
road snorting out fire and brimstone ! 

Pegeen. The Saints preserve us. (Runs R. to 
Ann Mary.) 

Shawn. And people was riding in it, and sorry a bit 
of horse or mule or goat was pulling it at all, at all. 

Pegeen. Oh my, oh my! 

Ann Mary. Hush now, you foolish creature, belike 
it was one of those automobiles. 

Shawn. And it run right after me, Miss Ann Mary, 
mum, and niver in all my life had I seen the like of it. 



MY IRISH ROSE 49 



And the quarest people were in it. Big, gogglety eyes 
they had, like that. (Fists in eyes.) And long robes 
like the priest in the chancel, and they're coming here. 

Pegeen. The Saints preserve us ! 

Ann Mary. Coming here? 

Pegeen. It's under the bed I'm going; and there 
I'll stay until the thing has left the village. 

Ann Mary. But, Pegeen — 

Pegeen. Don't hold me, mum. Out of me way, 
Shawn McGilly, out of me way. 'Tis the divil himself 
you've seen this day. (Loud toot of auto horn heard 
off L.) Did ye hear that? 'Tis the trump of doom. 
Out of me way, out of me way. (Rushes into cottage 
at R.) 

Ann Mary. And you let a little thing like that scare 
you? 

Shawn. I'm not scared, I'm only a little frightened, 
that's all. What wid the fire and the smoke and the 
smell and the blowin' of the horn, it was an awful 
thing. 

Ann Mary. It is simply some tourists in an auto- 
mobile. 

Shawn. Is it now? I'll just go out and ask them 
what their business is. 

(Starts off C. Loud toot of horn, he runs to Ann 
Mary.) Och, Miss Ann Mary, and did ye hear that? 

Ann Mary. Sure, I think that you're as big a cow- 
ard as is Pegeen Burke. 

Enter Archibald Pennywitt from C. gate. 

Shawn. Oh, look at it, look at it. I niver thought 
I'd live to see one of thim. He's got the gogglety eyes 
and the horns. But where is his red-hot pitchfork and 
his long tail at all, at all? 



50 MY IRISH ROSE 



Ann Mary. Whist! Hold your tongue. 

Archibald Pennywitt. Excuse me, my good 
woman, but we've had a breakdown. 

Shawn. (Frightened, down R.) He says he's had 
a breakdown! (Trembles.) 

Penny. (At C.) Could we stop here for a few 
moments until our car can be repaired? 

Ann Mary. Indeed you can. (Crosses to cottage 
door.) Come in and welcome. 

Penny. Thank you. If you will only allow the 
ladies to rest here — 

Ann Mary (in doorway). Ladies, is it? Bring 
them in at once. (Comes to R. C.) Shawn McGilly, 
don't be standing there like an owl in a bog. Stir your- 
self and offer to help the gentleman. 

Shawn. Yis, mum; I will that, mum. Can I help 
you, sor? 

Penny. Yes. Come with me. (Exit at C. gate.) 

Shawn. Yes, sor. (Follows him, trembling.) I'll 
not touch that thing wid the smoke and the smell for a 
barrel of money, but I'll go wid you, I'll go wid you. 
(Exit C.) 

Ann Mary (at R. C). Pegeen! Pegeen Burke, 
where are you ? 

Pegeen (sticks her head in from cottage door). 
Yes, mum. What is it, mum? Is it gone? And did 
he have a pitchfork, mum? 

Ann Mary. Such nonsense. Come with me and 
prepare some tea for the ladies. (Exit R. into house, 
followed by Pegeen.) 



Enter from C. gate Lady Agnes Barricklow, 
Eileen Fitzgerald and Penny. 



MY IRISH ROSE 51 



Eileen Fitzgerald (coming down L.). Such an 
unfortunate accident. 

Agnes Barricklow. Do hurry, Archie, don't keep 
us here any longer than you can help. (Looks around.) 
Heavens, what a place. 

Eileen. I think it's rather pretty. Look at the 
house and the roses on the old stone wall. Simple and 
rustic. It's a picture. 

Agnes. It may be, but it's not to my taste. Come, 
Archie, get some of the rustics to repair the car at 
once. 

Penny. They're working on it now. You know, I 
think they can do it. The lady of the house said you 
could rest in there. Jolly little place, I think, rustic 
simplicity and all that, you know ! 

Enter Pegeen from house. 

Pegeen. Miss Ann Mary says for you to come in 
and welcome. 

Eileen. Thank you. What a lovely view you have 
here. 

Pegeesst (not comprehending) . Yes, mum, I think it 
is. 

Penny. Aw, my good girl, I suppose you can see as 
far as America on a clear da}'. 

Pegeen. Yes, sor, we can. And on a clear night 
we can see even farther. 

Penny. Indeed? By Jove! 

Pegeen. On a clear night, sor, we can see as far as 
the moon. (Exit R.) 

Eileen (laughs). She had you there, Archie. 

Penny (puzzled). As far as the moon? By Jove, 
I wonder what she meant by that. I say, what are 
you laughing at — what is the joke? 



52 MY IRISH ROSE 



Eileen (laughs). You are, Archie, and don't know 
it. 

Penny, Oh, I say now ! I wish you girls wouldn't 
spoof me so, you know ! 

Enter Widow from gate C. She comes down C. 

Widow. (After a loiv courtesy to Agnes, who is 
down L.). How do 3^ou do, ma'am ! (Low courtesy to 
Eileen, who is down R.) And you, ma'am. (Similar 
business to Penny., i&ho is L. C.) And you, sor. 'Tis 
fine weather we're having for the time of year. 

Eileen. It is so. 

Widow. I saw you go by me house in your jaunting- 
car, and I saw you stop here, so I says to myself, says I, 
Oonah — me name is Oonah Hannigan and I'm a widow- 
lady — Oonah, says I, run over and see whatever all the 
excitement is about at the McCormacks'. So here I 
am. 

Agnes (haughtily). Yes, so we see. 

Widow (unabashed). And would you have any ob- 
jection to telling me what you are here at the McCor- 
macks' for? 

Agnes. I don't think it concerns you. 

Widow. Oh, indade and it does. I'm the lady of 
quality of the village and whine ver any quality stops 
here, it's ginerally me they come to see. 

Eileen. Indeed, we are honored to make your ac- 
quaintance. 

Widow. I thought you'd be. My house is just 
there beyant ; I'd be plased to have you stop and make 
me a bit of a visit also. 

Agnes. We are making no visits. 

Widow. Oh, indade. And then are you selling 
something? Or maybe just advertising? 



MY IRISH ROSE 53 

Agnes. Impertinent. 

Penny. By Jove! Awfully funny, you know; she 
thinks we are advertising. 

Widow. You see I always like to keep in touch with 
what is going on. 

Eileen. Yes, so we see. 

Widow. I hope you'll not think me inquisitive. 

Eileen. Oh, no; not at all. 

Widow. There's no woman in the county who is less 
inquisitive than meself. I'm simply curious, that's all. 
Did ye come from Belfast? 

Agnes. Where we came from, and where we are go- 
ing concerns no one but ourselves. You probably do 
not realize it, but you are most vulgarly intrusive. 

Widow. I don't know what ye mane, but I gather 
from your tone that you are not pleased to meet me. 

Agnes. Y^our powers of perception do you credit. 

Widow. I never heard so many long words in all me 
life. Sure you must be having a sore throat, ma'am, 
after using them. But don't think I am angry. I love 
to hear you talk. The big words roll out of your 
mouth like a bunch of pertaties being poured from one 
barrel into another. Say some more. 

Agnes. Y t ou will greatly oblige us, by going away 
and attending to your own affairs. 

Widow {angrily). Indeed, ma'am! I'd have ye 
know that I am the lady of the village and that I 
have money in the bank. Y r es, ma'am, money in the 
bank. 

Eileen. Come, Archie, we'll see if they have re- 
paired the car. 

Penny. Aw, yes. We'll go at once. {They cross 
to gate.) 

Widow. And I'll go with ye, if you don't mind. 



54 MY IRISH ROSE 



I've always wanted to see one of those automobilions at 
close range. 

Eileen. We're delighted, I'm sure. 

Penny. Awfully good of you, you know. 

Widow. Oh, don't mention it. I always like to be 
obliging. 

Eileen. Come along then. {Exits at gate C.) 

Penny. Aw, yes, it's a free show, you know. {Exit 
C.) 

Widow. {To Agnes.) And as for you, ma'am, I 
don't know who you are nor what you are selling, but 
{snaps her fingers) that for you! {Crosses to gate, 
turns.) And that for you. {Snaps fingers and exits 
C, tossing her head.) 

Agnes {notices picture on easel, sneers). Humph! 
Some wandering village artist. {Comes to picture and 
examines it.) Pretty — very pretty, and the face is 
excellent. It reminds me of Fitzgerald's work, 
{Looks at picture closely.) It is! Here's his signa- 
ture, M. F. — Maurice Fitzgerald. So this is where 
he's been hiding for the past two months. And this 
girl is evidently the reason. {Reads title of picture.) 
" Rose o' my Heart ! " How poetical. I wonder if 
Maurice has fallen in love with this rustic beauty. I 
must look into this. 

Enter Penny from C. gate. 

Penny. The car is repaired. Come on, Lady Ag- 
nes, we'll have to hurry if we reach Dublin by night- 
fall. 

Agnes {at L. C). I've decided not to go to Dublin 
tonight. 

Penny. Not to go? But I thought — 

Agnes. We'll remain here for the night. 



MY IRISH ROSE 55 



Penny. Here? Here? In this beastly place? 
And miss the grand ball? Why, Lady Agnes, I 
thought you were in such a hurry to be on our way. 

Agnes. So I was, but I've changed my mind. 

Penny. Yes, but, by Jove! — 

Agnes (sharply). Go and find Eileen and tell her to 
come here. I have a headache. I'm too tired to con- 
tinue the journey. 

Penny. But, I say, you know — 

Agnes. That will do. Do as I bid you. 

Penny. Yes, but by Jove, I hate to miss that ball, 
you know. It's confoundedly inconvenient, you know, 
to stop here all night. 

Agnes. If you won't find Eileen for me, I suppose I 
must find her for myself. 

Penny. Oh, I'll find her for you, but really, you 
know — 

Agnes (sharply). Yes, I know. I know we'll stay 
here for the night. 

Penny. Oh, I say — 

Agnes (impatiently). Are you ever going? 

Penny. Oh, yes ; just starting, you know. Funny 
idea staying in this bally place all night, you know. 
(Exit at C. gate.) 

Agnes (looking at the picture). She has a pretty 
face. I wonder if Maurice has made a fool of himself. 
He must be mine. As a mere artist with a moderate 
income he was quite impossible, but as Sir Maurice Fitz- 
gerald — well, that is quite another matter. He cared 
for me once, and I will win him back, I will win him back. 

Enter Pegeen from cottage at R. 

Pegeen. It's all ready for you, mum ; the tea, I 
mean. 



56 MY IRISH ROSE 



Agnes (at L. C). Come here, my good girl. 

Pegeen (crosses to C). Yes, mum, I'm here. 

Agnes. This picture — who painted it? 

Pegeen. A young man painted it. Yes, mum, a 
young man. 

Agnes. And what is his name? 

Pegeen. His name, is it? 

Agnes (impatiently). Y r es, his name. Who is he? 

Pegeen. He's a gentleman from Dublin, mum, his 
name's Fitzgerald. 

Agnes (to herself). I knew it, I knew it! 

Pegeen. Then what were ye askin' me for, mum? 

Agnes. And where is he now? 

Pegeen. Never a know do I know where he is. I've 
got a young man of me own, and have no time to be 
looking after others. 

Agnes. And who is the girl in the picture? 

Pegeen. That's the young lady of the farm, mum. 
Miss Creigan she is. Miss Rose Creigan, God be with 
her always. 

Agnes. She's rather pretty. 

Pegeen. Rather pretty, is it? Sure, she is. 
Folks do be saying that she's the most beautiful girl in 
all Ireland, but that's a matter of taste, as the owld 
woman said when she put sugar on her pertaties. 

Agnes. I suppose that Mr. Fitzgerald is captivated 
by this rustic beauty? 

Pegeen. If he's captivated, I don't know. But I 
do know that he worships the very ground upon which 
she treads, and it's my opinion that there'll be a wed- 
ding here at the farm before frost. 

Agnes. A wedding? Impossible. 

Pegeen. No, mum. Begging your pardon, mum, 
but it's not impossible at all, at all. 



MY IRISH ROSE 57 



Agnes. But he is a gentleman, rich, educated and 
cultured. 

Pegeen. That would make no difference to Miss 
Rose, mum, if she loved him. She'd never let a little 
thing like that stand in her way. 

Agnes. Tell the mistress of the house that I want 
to see her. 

Pegeen (staring at Agnes' dress). Yes, mum. I'll 
do that, mum. 

Agnes. Well, do so at once. 

Pegeen (still staring). Yis, mum, in a minute, mum. 

Agnes. What are you staring at? 

Pegeen. I'm not staring, mum; I'm just admiring 
the gown you've got on, mum ; with the ribbons and the 
silk and all the fixings, mum, I suppose it was expen- 
sive ? 

Agnes. That will do. 

Pegeen. Yes, mum ; that's what I think, too. If 
Shawn McGilly ever saw me wearing the like of that 
dress, it's a bride I'd be before Michaelmas. (Crosses 
to door at R.) Fine feathers certainly do make fine 
birds. (Exit into house at R.) 

Enter Eileen from gate at C. 

Eileen (coming down C). Did you want me, 
Agnes? 

Agnes. Yes, dear. I feel one of my wretched head- 
aches coming on, and I am quite too tired to attempt to 
ride to Dublin tonight. 

Eileen. But could we stay here? 

Agnes. I think so. The place seems to be quite 
a prosperous farm. The girl said she had some tea for 
us, let us see if we can't make arrangements to stay 



58 MY IRISH ROSE 

until morning, and then go up the Rocky Way when 
it is cool. 

Enter Penny from gate at C. 

Penny. ( Up by gate.) I say, have you quite made 
up your minds to stop here? 

Agnes. Quite, unless Eileen insists upon going to 
town. 

Eileen. Oh, dear, no. Let us stay by all means. 
I hope your head will be better, dear. 

Penny. But, I say, my dear Lady Agnes, that 
dance tonight — 

Agnes. Oh, bother the dance! Eileen, take the 
creature in and feed him some tea. 

Penny. But, I say, by Jove — 

Eileen (crosses to door at R.). Come along, Arch- 
ibald. Come in and have a sup of tay wid your owld 
frinds. (Laughs and exits into cottage at R.) 

Penny. But you know I don't fancy anything like 
this at all. Oh, why did I ever leave dear old England 
to tour among these blasted hills. (Cross to door at 
R.> turn.) Bally uncomfortable, you know! (Exit 
R.) 

(Rose heard off L., singing a lively Irish air, prob- 
ably " Cruisheen Lawn.") 

Agnes (muses). Rose o' my Heart he calls her. 
And Maurice Fitzgerald is just the man to be capti- 
vated by a pretty face. (Singing is heard off L. louder 
than before; Agnes looks off L., crossing up to gate.) 
She is coming. The same face as the picture. Pretty, 
to be sure, but a common, bog-trotting peasant for all 
that! 



MY IRISH ROSE 59 



Enter Rose from C. gate -finishing her song. 

Agxes {at L. C). Good morning, my good girl. 

Rose (at C). Good morning. 

Agxes. Have you seen anything of Sir Maurice this 
morning? 

Rose. Sir Maurice, is it? 

Agxes (proudly). I believe I made myself plain. 

Rose (looks at her a moment in surprise, then says 
roguishly). Indeed, and I'm thinking, ma'am, that it 
was old Mother Nature that made you plain. 

Agxes (angrily). How dare you! 

Rose (not at all disturbed}. If you are looking for 
Mr. Fitzgerald, you'll find him there in the meadow. 
He's painting a picture of the cow. 

Agxes. Thank you. 

Rose. Oh, don't mention it. He's nearly finished 
and will be here directly. 

Agxes. We have driven down for him. He's to go 
back to Dublin with us. 

Rose (slowly and with an effort). To go — back — 
to Dublin? 

Agxes. Yes. His fiancee is here with us. 

Rose. His fiancee? Mr. Fitzgerald's fiancee? 

Agxes. Yes, the young lady he means to marry. 
She is there in the house waiting for him. 

Rose. I don't believe you. 

Agxes (sharply). What! 

Rose. Mr. Fitzgerald isn't going to marry any 
young lady there in the house. It isn't true, it isn't 
true. 

Agxes (sneers). Oh, and isn't it? He has been 
engaged for over a year and the wedding is to take 
place next month. She is here. You may see for 



60 MY IRISH ROSE 



yourself. Probably he has been making love to you. 
Maurice always was captivated by a pretty face. 

Rose, I don't know what you mean. 

Agnes {comes closer to her). Oh, yes, you do. I 
saw that picture there; he's been at his old tricks again. 

Rose. I won't listen to you. 

Agnes. You know that he is a gentleman. A flirta- 
tion with a girl in your class is but the amusement of 
an idle hour for him, but for you, it may mean the re- 
pentance of a miserable life. 

Rose. But I am to be his wife. 

Agnes. My poor girl. My poor, poor girl! 

Rose. I don't understand you. 

Agnes. Has he made you a promise? If so, release 
him at once. Such a marriage would be wretchedness 
for you both. He would be ashamed of you in a month, 
would blush for your ignorance before his friends. But 
he cannot be serious. Wait here and you will see him 
greet his sweetheart. 

Maurice (off L.). Rose, Rose, where are you? 

Agnes. His voice. Come with me ; we will stand 
behind the wall and you may see his perfidy for your- 
self. 

Rose (in anguish). It can't be true. Oh, it can't 
be true. 

Maurice. Rose, where are you? (Voice heard off 
L. somewhat nearer.) 

Agnes. He's here. Quick. (Takes Rose's hand, 
they hide behind wall.) 

Enter Maurice from L. 1 E. 

Maurice. Rose, Rose allanah, don't be teasing me. 
Rose o' my Heart ! 



MY IRISH ROSE 61 

Enter Eileen from cottage at R. 

Eileen {coming to C. without seeing Maurice). 
Agnes, are you there? (Sees Maurice.) Oh, I beg 
your pardon — 

Maurice (turns to her). Eileen! 

Eileen. Maurice, is it you? (Rushes' into his 
arms at C.) Oh, we've found you at last, we've found 
you at last. 

Maurice. What are you doing here? 

Eileen. Our car broke down. We were on our way 
to Dublin. 

Maurice (drawing her arm through his). Come 
into the house. 

Eileen. Archibald and Agnes are with me. Oh, 
it's so good to see you again. (They exeunt at R. into 
cottage.) 

Rose (coming down C. and speaking with emotion). 
Oh, it's true, it's true. 

Enter Colum from house at R. 

Colum (meeting Rose at C). Rose, dear, what is 
it? Sure what's wrong? 

Agnes (comes down L.). Don't tell him. 

Rose. Oh, uncle, take me away; my heart is break- 
ing, my heart is breaking. 

Colum (soothingly). Is it now? A bit of a lover's 
quarrel. Where is Fitzgerald? I'll make it right in a 
twinkling. 

Rose (down R. with Colum). Oh, I never want to 
see his face again. He's engaged to another girl. I 
saw her in his arms. 

Colum (enraged, loudly). Is it the truth you're 



62 MY IRISH ROSE 



speaking? Engaged to another girl. Where is he? 
Let me at him! (Starts R.) 

Rose (clinging to him). Stop, where are you go- 
ing? 

Colum. I'm going to have it out with me fine young 
gentleman. 

Rose. No, no. Haven't I been humiliated enough? 
Let them go away. 

Enter Penny from house at R. Music, Irish love 
song. 

Penny (coming down C). Lady Agnes, Miss 
Eileen is asking for you. What do you think? 
Maurice is here. (Crosses L. to her.) 

Agnes (taking his arm). Come, let us get away 
from here. 

Colum (loudly). One moment, sir. Are these 
young ladies with you? 

Penny. Yes, sir, they are. 

Colum (loudly). Then take them from me house, 
and with them take your fine young Dublin gentleman. 
Away with all of ye. (At R. C.) 

Rose (at R.). Uncle! 

Penny. By Jove, what does he mean, Lady Agnes? 
(At L. C.) 

Colum (at R. C). I am master here. There is the 
road. Now all of ye get off of my premises. 

Penny (to Agnes). And just as Eileen has found 
her brother. 

Agnes. Hush, Archibald. Come with me. (Takes 
his arm.) 

Colum (astonished). Her brother? Is Mr. Fitz- 
gerald her brother? 



MY IRISH ROSE 63 



Rose (coming to R. C, Colum goes to R.). His 
sister? 

Agnes. Archibald, you are making a fool of your- 
self. 

Rose. Begging your pardon, ma'am, but I'm think- 
ing that it is you he's made the fool of. 

Penny. (At L. with Agnes.) Of course he is her 
brother. 

Enter Maurice and Eileen from R., Maurice goes 
to Rose, Eileen stays by cottage door. 

Maurice. Here she is now. Miss Creigan, this is 
my sister. Eileen, this is Miss Creigan, Rose, Rose o' 
my Heart! (Embraces Rose.) 

Music swells loud. 

Agnes down L. with baffled expression. Pennywitt 
L. C. looks surprised. Rose and Maurice at C. 
Colum, down R. 9 smiles broadly and Eileen at R. C. 
smiles pleasantly. 

Curtain. 



MY IRISH ROSE 

The Third Act. 
the last rose of summer 

First Scene: The library of Fitzgerald's house in 
Dublin. The furniture and hangings are handsome and 
sombre. The time is late in the afternoon in early sum- 
mer, about one year later than Acts I and II. The 
afternoon sun pours in a crimson stream upon the stage 
from the large bay window up L. Entrances R. and L. 
and a flight of stairs may appear up R., leading up and 
off R. with bannisters, double lights, etc. (This is not 
necessary, but very effective.) Large table down C. 
covered with books, magazines, etc., and on it is a tall 
vase full of dark red long-stemmed roses. Large chairs 
at R. and L. of this table. Couch or settee down R. 
Fireplace down L. (not necessary). Palms and beauti- 
ful dark set of library furniture. 

Rose discovered standing to L. of table with red rose 
in her hand. The sunlight streams in upon her. She 
half faces the audience and has her head slightly bent 
smelling the rose. Plaintive music, " Last Rose of 
Summer," to take up the curtain. 

Rose (holds tableau until curtain is well up, then 
rings small hand-bell on table). They've all gone off 
and left me alone. And it was just as well, for I never 
could learn to play whist if me life depended upon it. 
I never can remember whether it's spades or jacks or 
aces is trumps, and sometimes it's no trump at all. I 

64 



MY IRISH ROSE 65 

fear I never was intended by nature to be a fine lady 
at all, at all. 

Enter Pegeen from L. She comes down C. 

Pegeen. Did you ring for me, me lady? 

Rose. Yes. Where have you been? 

Pegeen. I've beea having a lovely stroll in the park 
with Jeems, the footman. He's a lovely man is Jeems, 
my lady. Nothing at all like the country clowns I 
used to know at home. 

Rose. Ah, the city life has indeed changed you. 

Pegeen. Sure, it has. Here I have nothing to do 
but to take care of me complexion, dress four times a 
day, and improve me mind. Oh, me lady, I never was 
so happy in all me life. 

Rose. And the old days are completely forgotten? 

Pegeen. Indeed they are. 

Rose. And yet it's only a few months since you left 
the farm. 

Pegeen. It's over a year, my lady. 

Rose. And you are happy here, Pegeen? 

Pegeen. Happy is no word for it, I'm simply in- 
toxicated wid it. 

Rose, We are so different, Pegeen. Faith I think 
you were more fitted to be Lady Fitzgerald than I was. 

Pegeen. If you'll excuse me, me lady, I think you 
are not uppish enough. 

Rose. Tell me me faults, Pegeen. 

Pegeen. In the first place you shouldn't be callin' 
me Pegeen. It's Burke you should say. Pegeen shows 
too much familiarity. 

Rose {meekly). Very well, Pegeen; I mean Burke. 
What else? 

Pegeen. And you don't dress half fine enough. 



66 MY IRISH ROSE 



Wid all your beautiful dresses and gowns and their 
trimmings and all from Paris, you always choose the 
very simplest. And you don't talk fine enough. 
Learn a lot of big words like impossible and extraneous 
and atrocious and fling them about on all occasions. 

Rose. I'll try to do it. 
^ Pegeen. And you must sit up later at night, and 
lie in bed longer in the morning. That's the style in 
the city. And you must hold yourself as high as a 
queen, and hold all others as low as a blackamoor in 
Afriky. If you want a model there's Lady Barricklow 
who is visitin' Miss Eileen, she is most supercilious. 

Rose. I have no desire to resemble Lady Agnes in 
any particular. 

Pegeen. And ye must learn to talk Frinch and 
Italian and Spanish. And to play cards and smoke 
cigaroots, and to play on the pianny and the mouth- 
harp, and to sing the opera songs, and to learn the 
latest dances. 

Rose. Oh, I fear I never shall be able to do all of 
that, Pegeen. But get me my French grammar, I'll 
study that a little. I'm so happy today that I'll make 
a bad student, I fear. Only think, Pegeen darlin', me 
dear brother has come home and is here in Dublin this 
very day. 

Pegeen. And his case comes up this morning. I 
suppose Mr. McCormack will be bringing him here as 
soon as they set him free. 

Rose. Yes. Oh, Pegeen, it's been nearly a year 
since I've seen my uncle, and it seems an eternity since 
I've seen Terry. 

Pegeen. And what will Sir Maurice be saying to 
your brother? 

Rose. He doesn't know anything about him. He 



MY IRISH ROSE 67 



doesn't even know that I am related to the famous 
patriot, Terrence Creigan. I'm going to surprise, him 
and introduce him to me brother tonight. 

Pegeex. But suppose they won't right the wrong 
done Mr. Terry? 

Rose. Oh, they couldn't be that cruel. But I won't 
think of it. Get me book. I'll study me French and 
surprise me brother when he comes. 

Pegeex (gets book from small table at rear). 
Here it is, me lady. 

Rose. Now go and lay out me finest ball dress. 
I've decided to go to the ball tonight and I want to 
dazzle Terry. 

Pegeex. Yis, me lady. (Crosses to door at L., 
turns.) You'll be the grandest lady in all Dublin if 
you'll only follow me advice. (Exit L.) 

Rose. Lady Agnes is always twitting me and snub- 
bing me on account of me country manners and me lack 
of education. I'll show her. Sure, I'll learn to talk 
French with the best of 'em. (Studies.) Bong jower, 
monseer! That manes howdy-do. Bong jower, mon- 
seer. My, my, but it twists one's tongue to get it out. 
Why can't they talk like dacent folks and say " The top 
of the mornin'," when they want to. 

Pepperdixe appears at door R. 

Pepperdixe. May I come in? 

Rose. (Rises.) If it ain't Mr. Pepperdine. I 
thought you went to the wiiist party with the rest 
of them. Oh, I'm forgetting me manners. (Speaks in 
affected society tone.) Bong jower, monseer! I trust 
you are well. And isn't it atrocious weather we're hav- 
ing for this time of year? 



68 MY IRISH ROSE 



Pepperdine (meeting her at C. of stage). Dread- 
ful. 

Rose. I didn't see you at Lady Clancarty's tea, nor 
yet at the races. I sincerely trust you haven't been 
indisposed? 

Pepperdine. On the contrary, Lady Rose, I've been 
quite well. 

Rose. Can't I give you some tea or something? 

Pepperdine. Nothing at all, thank you. Is Sir 
Maurice at home? 

Rose. Sure, and he is not. (Resuming her natural 
tones.) I can't keep up the fine lady business any 
longer. Come here and sit down and tell me the 
news. (They sit.) 

Pepperdine. There's very little to tell. Oh, yes, 
that young patriot Terrence Creigan has been rein- 
stated. 

Rose. Reinstated! And what is reinstated? 

Pepperdine. Released from all charges against 
him. 

Rose. Then he is free? 

Pepperdine. As you or me. Only he must engage 
in no more ructions. 

Rose. Oh, I am so glad. Excuse me excitement, 
Mr. Pepperdine, but he's a — that is, he's a — he's a 
frind of mine. Oh, I'm so flustrated. You see I've 
been taking lessons in French and dancing and piano- 
playing and Heaven only knows what else, till it's worn 
to a bone I am completely. And I'm trying so hard to 
learn society manners. 

Pepperdine. Why not be just your natural self? 

Rose. And do you like me natural self better than 
me society manners? 

Pepperdine. Decidedly better. 



MY IRISH ROSE 69 



Rose. Sure, that's what I think meself. But Sir 
Maurice and Lady Agnes want me to talk French and 
cultivate repose. I can't talk French. I don't want to 
talk French. Whatever is the use of saying " Bong 
jower, monseer!" when an Irish brogue and an Irish 
heart is waitin' and ready to give you an Irish wel- 
come? 

Pepperdixe. No use at all. But I'll step in the 
conservatory and smoke until Sir Maurice arrives. 
He'll come in presently, won't he? 

Rose. Oh, yes. I expect him any minute now. 

Pepperdixe. I know the way. Just tell him I'm in 
here. {Exit L.) 

Rose. Make yourself right at home. I'll send 
Jeems to you with .some cigars and some punch. Oh, 
me brother's free at last, and they're coming here. I'll 
see Terry and Nunkie again. I could dance for joy. 
(Changes tone to society voice.) But that wouldn't be 
ladylike. Lady Rose Fitzgerald dancing? Atrocious! 

Enter Pegeex from L. 

Pegeex. If you please, me lady, your new dress is 
ready. 

Rose (society voice). Ah, yes, me good girl. I 
suppose I must dress for dinner. It's such a bore. 

Pegeex. Why, whatever has come over you? Are 
you sick? 

Rose (natural voice). No, Pegeen, I'm just prac- 
tising me society tone. Come on, Peg, we'll try on the 
new dress. (Runs to door L.) I hope it will astonish 
them, for I mean to be the belle of the ball. (Exit L.) 

Pegeex. And so she will, for the Dublin gentility 
are sick of society, and will gladly welcome a little coun- 
try Rose. (Exit L.) 



70 MY IRISH ROSE 



Enter Penny, Eileen and Agnes from R. 

Penny. My dear Miss Eileen, here we are at home 
again. 

Eileen. (Down R.) Why, so we are. How very 
surprising. 

Penny. (At C.) Oh, by Jove, you know what I 
mean, you know. 

Agnes. (Down L.) Oh, yes; you are so delight- 
fully clear. 

Penny. (To Eileen.) This is the first time I've 
ever visited your Dublin house. (Agnes picks up mag- 
azine and reads.) 

Eileen. And do you like it? 

Penny. Immensely. The grounds, you know — 
and the delightful old dairy where they make butter 
and milk and things, you know — and the delightful old 
castle. I'm awfully fond of it, you know. 

Eileen. I hope you rested well last night. 

Penny. Well — er — there's a remarkably hoarse 
watch-dog, you know, and he seems to be suffering from 
chronic bronchitis. I think he had a personal spite at 
the moon last night. And the dear little roosters, you 
know, they were crowing since 3 a. m. 

Eileen. I'm awfully sorry, you know. You sim- 
ply must get your beauty sleep, Mr. Pennywitt. 

Penny. My beauty sleep? Aw — now you're 
spoofing me, you know. And that's not kind. I 
hoped to make quite an impression on you, by Jove, I 
did. For you've made an awfully marked impression 
on me. You have, really. 

Agnes (rises). Come, Eileen, it's time to dress for 
dinner. 

Eileen. So it is. (Crosses to Agnes at L.) 



MY IRISH ROSE 71 



Penny. But I was just about to remark, you 
know — 

Agnes. Keep it until after dinner, Mr. Pennywitt. 
Come, Eileen. (Exit L.) 

Penny. Horribly rude. Miss Eileen, do you think 
you'd like to live in England? 

Eileen (surprised). In England? Why, I never 
thought of such a thing. 

Penny. But you might, you know. I'd deucedly 
like to have you, you know. (Kneels carefully on hand- 
kerchief.) I love you, and all that sort of thing, you 
know. 

Eileen. Oh, Mr. Pennywitt, is this a proposal? 

Penny. Yes, my heart is telling me — 

Agnes (outside L.). Eileen! 

Eileen. Oh, I mustn't listen now. Wait till after 
dinner. (Exits L.) 

Penny. (Rising.) By Jove, awfully uncomfort- 
able, you know. And just as she was about to accept 
me, too. Agnes is entirely too dictatorial, and all that 
sort of thing. I'll dress for dinner and then after din- 
ner I'll propose again, you know. (Exit L.) 

Enter Maurice from R. 

Maurice. (Rings bell on table.) I wonder where 
my little Rose can be hiding? 

Enter Pegeen from L. 

Pegeen. If you please, sor, Mr. Pepperdine do be 
waiting for you in the conservatory. 

Maurice. Ask him to step in here, Pegeen. 
Pegeen. Yes, sor. (Exits L.) 
Maurice. I wonder what he has learned. 



72 MY IRISH ROSE 



Enter Pepperdine from L. 

Pepperdine. Ah, Sir Maurice! 

Maurice (shaking hands with him at C). I hope 
you haven't been waiting long, Mr. Pepperdine? 

Pepperdine. Not at all. I came straight from the 
re-hearing. 

Maurice. And what have you learned? Is there 
any connection between this Terrence Creigan and my 
wife? 

Pepperdine. There can be no doubt about it, Sir 
Maurice. I have made diligent inquiry and am con- 
vinced that this young patriot is Lady Rose's own 
brother. 

Maurice (surprised). Indeed? It is strange that 
no one has ever mentioned the fact to me. 

Pepperdine. When you first met her he was an exile 
in America. Maybe she feared to have you learn of 
the relationship. 

Maurice. When did he return to Ireland? 

Pepperdine. Last week. He was requested to re- 
turn to Ireland as important evidence had come to light ; 
in fact, the officer who brought the charges against him 
is now himself a fugitive. The formal inquiry came off 
this morning. 

Maurice. And what was the result? 

Pepperdine. He was exonerated and restored to his 
rank, but in view of certain remarks he made about the 
government he will not be restored to active service for 
a year. 

Maurice. He ought to be restored immediately. 

Pepperdine. It might be arranged, Sir Maurice. 

Maurice. If he is my wife's brother I shall leave no 
stone unturned until he is righted. 



MY IRISH ROSE 73 



Pepperdine. Probably if you saw the general — 

Maurice. The very thing. Sir Damon was my 
father's closest friend. Surely he will grant me this 
small favor. 

Pepperdixe. Of course he will. 

Maurice. I'll drive over and see him immediately 
after dinner. 

Pepperdine. But Sir Damon left for Belfast this 
morning. 

Maurice. Then I'll go to Belfast tonight. Ter- 
rence Creigan must be reinstated before the week is out. 
But, mind, not a word to Lady Rose. 

Pepperdine. You may trust me. 

Maurice. It will be a grand surprise for her, but 
I'm afraid she can't go to the Military Ball tonight. 
And she has her heart set on it. 

Pepperdine. But how happy she will be w T hen she 
learns what you have done for her brother. It will not 
be difficult to arrange matters with Sir Damon, I am 
sure. 

Maurice. I myself will be personally responsible 
for the young man's conduct. {Gong rings off R.) 
There's the dinner gong. Shall we join the party in 
the hall? Come with me. (They go out L.) 

After a slight pause enter Colum from R. followed 
by Terrence Creigan. 

Colum. (Coming down C.) Sure, it's a fine house 
they have here. 

Terrence Creigan. (Down R.) It is that. And 
to think that me little sister is the mistress of this grand 
estate! 

Colum (proudly). And Lady Fitzgerald. Think 



74 MY IRISH ROSE 



of that, now. Some day you may be an uncle to a lord. 

Terry. But the best of it all is that she is happy 
and that he loves her. That is worth more than all the 
money in Ireland. 

Colum. The man told us to come in here, but I see 
no one about. 

Terry. Maybe we'd better be ringing this wee bell. 
(Rings it.) 

Colum. Hold on, don't do that ! Sure, they'll 
think the house is on fire or something like that. 

Terry. Not at all. That simply calls the servants. 
Sit down. 

Colum. (Sits in easy chair, then jumps up quickly.) 
What was it? (Feels seat.) Begorra, I thought I sat 
down on a cat. (Sinks in chair easily.) 

Terry. It does me heart good to be back in dear 
old Dublin again. 

Colum. Wait till you get home. Ann Mary is 
crazy entirely with joy. Wait till she hears that you 
are back. There'll be no holding her. 

Terry. I'm not entirely free. Only on a sort of 
parole. 

Colum. Sure the parole of a Creigan is as good as 
an oath. 

Terry. I suppose that you and Ann Mary miss me 
sister? 

Colum. Miss her, is it? Sure 'twas the light of our 
eyes went out when she moved away. But thank the 
saints she is happy. 

Terry. It's a wonder now that you are alone that 
one of you don't get married. 

Colum. That's what the Widow Hannigan thinks 
also. But I've lived a bachelor for over fifty years and 
I'll live a bachelor till I die. And so will Ann Mary. 



MY IRISH ROSE 75 



Enter Pegeen from L. 

Pegeen. I thought I heard the bell. 

Colum. And so you did, my lady. We were trying 
to get a servant. I am after looking for me niece Rose 
Creigan who was, Lady Fitzgerald who is. 

Pegeen. And don't you know me? 

Colum. Sorry a bit, do I? 

Pegeen. I'm Pegeen, Pegeen Burke. 

Colum. Pegeen Burke ! I beg your pardon, ma'am, 
but I think you're lying. 

Terry. Why, so it is! Pegeen, I'm glad to see 
you. (Shakes hands.) 

Colum (putting on spectacles and walks all around 
Pegeen, looking at her). I'll not believe it. 

Pegeen (shakes hands with him). Mr. McCormack, 
you're a sight for sore eyes. And how is Miss Ann 
Mary? And Shawn McGilly? And the Widow Han- 
nigan? And all the boys and girls? 

Colum. They're well and I'm well and sure, I think 
you're well too. You look like a lady, Pegeen. 

Pegeen (tosses head). Sure, I am that, too. 

Colum. You'll be too fine for Shaw r n McGilly now. 

Pegeen. I'd never look at Shawn McGilly now. 

Colum. My, my ! Dress the pig in silk and there's 
no getting her into the sty. 

Pegeen. I've heard that you've been restored, Mr. 
Terry. My, but this will be a happy day for Lady 
Rose. 

Colum. And where is she? Where is me Rose? 

Pegeen. They're at dinner now. 

Colum. Dinner, is it? 

Pegeen. I'll speak to her and tell her that some one 
is here to see her. 



76 MY IRISH ROSE 



Terry. But don't tell her who it is. Let us sur- 
prise her. We'll step in here and wait. (Points to R.) 

Pegeen. And I'll send her in. Oh, won t she be 
surprised! {Exit L.) 

Colum. Never in all me life have I seen such a 
change in a creature. And to think that that girl used 
to cut up the pigs for the butcher ! 

Terry. Come in here, Uncle Colum. We'll give 
Rose the surprise of her life. {Exit R.) 

Colum. (Following him.) And to think that that 
girl was Pegeen Burke. (Exits R.) 

Enter Rose from L. in full ball costume. 

Rose (coming to C). Sure, there's no one here at 
all. Pegeen was so mysterious. I wonder who it can 
be. (Exits R.) 

Terry (outside R.). Rose, Rose, me sister! 

Rose (outside R.). It's Terry! Terry! And 
Uncle Colum! 

After pause enter Rose from R. with Terry and 
Colum. 

Rose. Oh, this is the happiest day in me whole life. 

Colum. And what a lady you've grown to be. 

Terry. And are you always happy here, mavour- 
neen ? 

Rose. Always. Me husband is as good as gold. 
But, oh, how glad I am to see you both. There's no 
one in all the world like you, Terry — except Nunkie ! 

Colum. And will you look at the dress of her. 
Sure, are you a queen on her throne, or what? 

Rose. I'm going to the ball tonight. And you and 
Terry shall go with us. 



MY IRISH ROSE 77 



Colum. Indeed and I'll go to no ball. I'm going to 
the opera theater and see the Black Crook's Girls. 

Rose. Oh, uncle, what would Aunt Ann Mary say? 

Colum. What she don't know will never disturb her. 

Rose. But Terry, you can go with us to the ball? 

Terry. I'll be delighted. 

Rose. My, what a fine and handsome man you've 
grown to be over there in Americky. Sure I thought 
the Injuns would be after scalping off all your hair 
and eating you alive. 

Terry. Not in Buffalo. 

Rose. Me heart's full to overflowing to have you 
both here. {Rings bell.) The people will be coming 
in from dinner presently. I want to give me husband 
a grand surprise and show him what a fine lad me 
brother is. 

Enter Pegeen from L. 

Terry. And don't forget Uncle Colum. He's a fine 
man, too. 

Rose. He is. The finest in all Ireland. Now you 
must go with Pegeen and then I'll send for you and sur- 
prise the whole family. 

Colum. But remember I want to see the Black 
Crook's Girls tonight ! 

Rose. Pegeen, show Terry and Nunkie to the rooms 
in the south tower, and not a word to anyone that 
they are here. I want to surprise me husband. I'll 
introduce you to him, Terry, at the Military Ball to- 
night. I want him to see what a fine looking lad I 
have for a brother. 

Terry. Blarney, mavourneen, blarney ! 

Rose. Now run along with Pegeen, the both of yees. 
The folks will be coming in from dinner directly. 



78 MY IRISH ROSE 

Colum. From dinner, is it? And do you ate dinner 
twice a day? 

Rose. No, only once. We have breakfast and 
lunch and tiffin and dinner and late supper. 

Colum. Sure, you must be kept busy eating the 
whole day. 

Pegeen. Walk this way, sir. (Exits L. loftily 
with affected walk.) 

Colum. If I walked that way, faith, I'd be bending 
me backbone. But I'll do me best. (Exits L. followed 
by Terry.) 

Rose (looking back at her train). My, my, what a 
long tail our cat has got. I hope I don't trip on it and 
fall down at the ball tonight. My, if such a thing as 
that should happen Maurice would be disgraced forever. 

Enter Maurice from L. He stands looking at her. 

Maurice. Rose, come here; I want to talk to you. 
(SitsL.) 

Rose (standing at R.). You're going to scold me. 
I see it in your eye. And I don't like to be scolded. 
How do you like me new dress? (Parades across 
stage.) 

Maurice. Very pretty. 

Rose (imitating his tone). Very pretty, is it? 
Is that the best I get? My gracious, I thought that 
you would at least say that I was a dream. (Pause, 
waiting for him to speak, but he does not.) I think I 
am a dream. Don't you? Or am I just a wild rose 
from the farm at Kildare? 

Maurice. You are my wife; you are Lady Rose 
Fitzgerald. 

Rose. (Sighs.) Yes, I know that. And it's an 



MY IRISH ROSE 79 



awful responsibility. (She crosses to him and sits on 
the arm of his chair.) Well, go on and scold me. I 
suppose I might as well have it now as later. What 
have I been doing now? 

Maurice. You left the table before dinner was half 
served. 

Rose. I lost me appetite — and there was some 
company for me. 

Maurice. But you forgot our guests, and hospital- 
ity has ever been the watchword of the Fitzgeralds. 

Rose. I'm sorry. 

Maurice. And you were rude to Lady Agnes. 

Rose (spiritedly). I'm not sorry for that. She 
was rude to me. 

Maurice. That makes no difference, she is a guest 
beneath our roof. 

Rose (rises and comes to C). You're taking up for 
her — you always take up for her. (Rapidly.) I be- 
lieve you care more for her than you do for me. I 
know you do. You're sorry you ever married me. I've 
disgraced you with me country ways and me bluntness 
of speech. (Crosses to R., sinks in chair, buries her 
face in arms and sobs.) I've disgraced you, I've dis- 
graced you ! 

Maurice (crosses to her and comforts her). Not at 
all. Rose, don't cry ! 

Rose. I will cry ! I guess I can cry if I want to. 
Y r ou don't love me ! 

Maurice. I love you as much as ever. 

Rose (looks up at him). Honest, do you? 

Maurice. Honestly, I do. 

Rose (childishly). And am I still the rose of your 
heart? 

Maurice. Of course you are. But you must take 



80 MY IRISH ROSE 



pains to be a little more thoughtful. You must study 
and learn to repress your buoyant nature. Lady Ag- 
nes is your friend and mine. I think you should apolo- 
gize to her. 

Rose. I'll apologize to no one. She mocks at me 
and sneers at me dear uncle. 

Maurice. You only imagine that, Rose dear. 

Rose. She's jealous of us, that's what she is. She 
wanted to marry you herself. 

Maurice. Nonsense. 

Rose. It isn't nonsense. A woman always knows. 
She tries to treat me like the dirt beneath her feet, and 
am I to sit quietly by when she does that? 

Maurice. When she is our guest, yes. (Crosses 
to L.) 

Rose. Then the sooner she quits being our guest, 
the better I'll like it. 

Maurice. Rose ! 

Rose. Don't Rose me! I'm working hard and 
studying every minute of the day to make meself into a 
fine society lady, but it seems no use at all. And to- 
night I was going to me first grand ball and I was so 
happy. And now we've quarrelled and I'm not happy 
at all, at all. 

Maurice. And these touches of brogue. People in 
our position never use brogue. It is left for the com- 
mon people. 

Rose. (Rising.) The common people, is it? 
Sure, I'm one of the common people meself, and proud 
of it, do ye mind ! The nobility can make a king, and 
a king can make a nobility, but neither king nor nobility 
can make a people ! 

Maurice (seated L.). Your sentiments do you 



MY IRISH ROSE 81 



credit, my dear. But you'd better leave the discussion 
of politics to others. 

Rose {passionately). The words " common people " 
are so often on the lips of the nobility. Did you ever 
stop to think, Maurice, that every one was common 
people once on a time. Sure, I think the good Lord 
must love the common people the best of all, because He 
made so many of them. 

Maurice (rises). We'll not discuss the subject 
further. I'm sure you will not willingly offend Lady 
Agnes again while she is beneath my roof. 

Rose (humbly). I'll try not to, Maurice. 
(Loudly.) But she certainly does rouse me fighting 
blood. But I'll do as you bid me. (Pathetically.) 
I'm trying hard to be a lady, Maurice dear, for your 
sake. I'm trying hard not to disgrace you. 

Maurice (takng her in his arms). And you are 
succeeding so well, my darling. 

Enter Agnes from L. 

Agnes (at L.). Oh, I beg your pardon. I fear I 
am de trop. 

Rose (at R. C). I don't know 7 what ye mean by de 
trop, but I think you are. 

Maurice (at C.). Agnes, Rose has something to 
say to you. (Crosses to door at R., turns and speaks.) 
Be friends, both of you • — for my sake. (Exits R.) 

Rose. L^dy Agnes, I'm sorry for what I said at 
dinner. I forgot for the moment that you were my 
guest. I am sorry. 

Agnes (at L. C). Oh, w r e will say no more about it. 
Your husband has already apologized for your conduct 
and then, I always make allowances for you, my dear. 



82 MY IRISH ROSE 



No doubt if I had been reared as you were, I should be 
just as bad. When I am speaking with Maurice I al- 
ways take your part. 

Rose. (Angrily,) You always take my part? 

Agnes. Y r es; men are so unreasonable, aren't they? 
He picked a wild flower and he has no right to be angry 
and disappointed when he finds that she cannot trans- 
form herself into a hot-house bloom. 

Rose. I don't think my husband is angry or disap- 
pointed. In spite of what you infer, I am sure he is 
satisfied with his choice. 

Agnes (with a sneering laugh). Indeed? And you 
should hear what he says to his own circle of friends. 
If you will pardon a suggestion, my dear, I think the 
best thing you could do would be to leave him. That 
would be most satisfactory to all parties, I am sure. 

Rose. And to yourself in particular. 

Agnes Oh, no ; to your husband in particular. 
Why he actually has to blush for you. 

Rose. I was happy until you came here; he never 
blushed for me until you taught him, and if there is a 
cloud between us that is darkening our happy home, it 
is you, Agnes Barricklow, who caused it. 

Agnes (clenching her hands). How dare you! 

Rose. I have been silent too long. But I see 
through your plans at last. You would have him di- 
vorce me. You have dropped the mask, there is noth- 
ing between us now, I see you face to face. This house 
is no place for you. I am the mistress here and I bid 
you leave my house ! 

Agnes. You bid me? (Laughs.) Indeed. You 
forget that it was your husband who invited me here. 
You had better ask him to send me away, and tell him 
your reasons. 



MY IRISH ROSE 83 



Rose. Take care ! Shall I tell him that you are 
trying to poison his faith in me, that you are trying to 
undermine our love? 

Agnes. Ah, I see you fear me. 

Rose. No, I fear you no longer. I have torn the 
mask from your face. You are harmless. 

Agnes. Rose Fitzgerald, is this defiance? 

Rose. No, Agnes Barricklow, it is detection ! 
(Cross to door at R.) I am going to my husband and 
tell him that you are leaving the house. 

Agnes. But if I refuse? 

Rose. I will tell him all. For once you have over- 
played your game. You have shown your hand before 
you took the trick. I know you now, and I will beat 
you at your own game. (Exit R.) 

Agnes. Fool! (Rings hand-bell.) Why did I lose 
my temper? Why did I reveal my plans? 

Enter Pegeen from L. 

Pegeen (at L.). Do you want me, me lady? 

Agnes. Yes. Find my maid and send her to my 
room at once. Then you can help her pack my things. 
I am leaving for Belfast tonight. (Exit L.) 

Pegeen. And good riddance to bad rubbish, says I. 

Enter Rose from R. 

Rose. Pegeen, where is Lady Barricklow? 

Pegeen. She just went out, me lady. She's going 
to have her things packed. 

Rose. She is going away? 

Pegeen. Yes, mum, at once. And it'll be mighty 
glad I'll be to see the last of her. 

Rose. Where is she going? 



84 MY IRISH ROSE 



Pegeen. To Belfast, she says. Have ye been hav- 
ing a ruction with her? 

Rose. I have been asserting my rights as mistress of 
this house. 

Pegeen. Hurray for you, my lady. Sure and it 
was high time that some one was saying " scat " to her 
ladyship. 

Rose. That will do, Pegeen. 

Pegeen. Yes, my lady, that's what I think, too. 
(Exit L.) 

Rose (at C). Going away, is she? To Belfast. 
May the saints speed her on her journey. The black 
cloud is passing from my heaven and me husband will 
be all my own again. 

Enter Maurice from R. with long coat and carrying 
hat. 

Maurice (comes dozen R. C). Rose! 

Rose (at C). Oh, Maurice, dear Maurice. I'm so 
happy I could sing, I feel that light-hearted and gay. 

Maurice. And why, Rose? 

Rose. Well, I'll tell the truth and shame the divil. 
Lady Agnes is going to Belfast tonight. 

Maurice (lightly). And you are glad to lose so 
agreeable a companion? 

Rose. Sure, she's too agreeable, I'm thinking, to 
some people. 

Maurice (annoyed). Rose, you aren't jealous? 
(She nods.) If there is any one thing that makes a 
wife appear foolish in the eyes of the world and ridicu- 
lous to her husband it is jealousy, baseless jealousy. 

Rose. (Comes to him meekly and lays hand on his 
arm.) I know I'm wrong, but I can't help it. But 



MY IRISH ROSE 85 

she's going, Heaven be praised, and me jealousy is go- 
ing with her. And tonight I'll be the happiest girl in all 
Ireland. We're going to the grand military ball — 
and I have a grand surprise for you when we get there. 

Maurice. I'm afraid I won't be able to go to the 
ball tonight. 

Rose (in surprise and dismay). Won't go? Oh, 
Maurice ! And it was to be me first grand ball. And 
I tried to dress to please you, and I've studied me les- 
sons to make a grand lady of meself tonight, and I was 
going to be so happy, and now you can't go. 

Maurice. I am called away upon important busi- 
ness. I fear I must leave tonight. 

Rose. Oh, no, not tonight. (Clings to him and 
sobs.) Not tonight! When I was so happy. 

Maurice. It is imperative. I must go at once. 

Rose. Then let me go with you. 

Maurice. That would be impossible. Come now, 
be a brave little Rose ! I'll be back in a few days. 

Rose (persistent). But why must you go? 

Maurice. I cannot tell you. It must be a secx % et 
for the present. 

Rose. A secret. (Slowly.) Maurice, this is our 
first secret. Where are you going? 

Maurice. I must catch the night train for Belfast. 

Rose (frowns and says in a whisper). Belfast! 

Maurice. I must go to my room now and see if 
Patrick has finished packing. (Crosses to L.) It will 
only be for a short time, a week at most. (Exits L.) 

Rose (looking straight before her without moving^. 
To Belfast? (Pause.) And she is going to Belfast, 
too. Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do? 

Enter Terry from L. in dress uniform. 



86 MY IRISH ROSE 



Terry {coming down L. C). Well, darlin', don't 
you think you'd better be introducing me to the family 
now? 

Rose (takes his two hands, looks in his face pite- 
ously). Oh, Terry, brother, at least you are left to 
me. 

Terry. (Embracing her.) What's all this? 
What is wrong with you and Sir Maurice? 

Rose. He's going away to Belfast. And Lady 
Barricklow is going, too. I am to be left behind. 
And he promised to take me to the ball tonight, and 
now he's going away. 

Terry. But, mavourneen, he'll be coming back 
again. I'll take you to the ball. 

Rose. But, don't you see? He's following her to 
Belfast, 

Terry. You are excited. Maybe he's not at all. 
I'll watch over you, never fear, I will protect you. 
But you mustn't give way like this. Remember your 
pride, remember that you are a Creigan. 

Rose. I will be brave. (Rings hand-bell.) Let her 
do her worst. I'll show them all that a Creigan of 
Kildare fears no one. 

Enter Pegeen from L. 

Rose. Pegeen, me opera cloak. The white one with 
the fur. 

Pegeen. Yes, me lady. (Exits L.) 

Terry. What do you intend to do? 

Rose. I am going to the ball — with you. I am a 
country flower no longer, but a woman, a woman fight- 
ing for her husband's love. Go in there, Terry. 
(Points to L.) I'll call you in a moment. 

Terry. As you will. (Exits L.) 



MY IRISH ROSE 87 



Enter Pegeen from L. with opera cloak. She puts 
it on Rose. 

Pegeen. Here it is, me lady. It makes you look as 
lovely as the white frosting on a Christmas cake. 

Enter Maurice from R., Agnes, Eileen and Penny- 
Witt from L. 

Maurice (at R. C). Surely Rose, you are not go- 
ing to the ball? 

Rose (at C.)\ Indeed and I am. You are going 
away, and my guests are going away, would you have 
me be moping here at home? 

Eileen (down L.). We will be glad to take you. 

Penny. (Down L. with her.) Er — yes, Lady 
Rose, plenty of room, plenty of room. 

Rose. I'll not trouble you. 

Agnes (at L. C). Perhaps you have an escort? 

Rose. Perhaps I have. And he's no other 
woman's husband, either. 

Maurice. Don't you think you had better stay at 
home tonight, Rose? 

Rose (passionately). No. Too long have I sit and 
sighed and moped and worn me very heart out trying 
to please all of you. The light has died out of me 
eyes and the joy from me heart. (Louder, speaking to 
Maurice.) You gave me jewels and fine clothes and a 
carriage and pair and servants and society, when all 
the time me heart was crying out for but one thing. 
It was love I wanted — and that was denied to me. 
And now r you are off for a week at Belfast, and me fine 
Lady Barricklow is off for a week at Belfast, and I'll 
stand it no longer. 

Maurice. Rose, what are you going to do? 



88 MY IRISH ROSE 



Rose. I'll sit and sigh no more. You've all tried to 
make me a fine lady, and now I'll try and make meself 
one. I'll go to the ball and dance with a smile on me 
face and a broken heart in me breast. I'll say " Bong 
jower, monseer!" and be the gayest of the gay. I 
have an escort. Pegeen, show in me escort! (To 
Maurice.) Now, you are free to go with Lady Bar- 
ricklow or whom you will. 

Enter Terry, from L. 

Rose. Terry, your arm ! ( Takes his arm and 
sweeps up to the door C. her head held high, turns and 
faces Maurice. Good night to you, Sir Maurice, and a 
pleasant trip to Belfast. 

Agnes (raging). Insolent! 

Rose. Insolent, am I? 'Twas you who taught me 
the way of the world, me lady, 'twas you who taught 
me how to fight, and I am going to win. Pegeen, me 
coach! Terry, your arm! (Makes a courtesy to all.) 
Good night, to all of ye. (Stands in door C. looking 
and laughing at them.) 

Curtain 

!" 

Second Scene: Same as Act III, Scene 1. The 
curtain to remain down only a few moments to indicate 
the lapse of four hours. Curtain rises to sad music 
" Come back to Erin, Mavourneen" or any other plaint- 
ive, Irish melody. Maurice discovered seated at table, 
his head bowed on his arms. When curtain is well up, 
there is a pause. A clock strikes three. 



MY IRISH ROSE 89 



Maurice (rises, looks at watch). Three o'clock. 
And this is the end. The end of my dream. I won- 
der who he is. Some boyhood lover, I suppose. 
(Opens drawer, takes out pistol.) My hand trembles 
like a leaf. I must conquer my nerves. I'll send a 
challenge by O'Grady the first thing in the morning. 
Duelling is dead in Ireland, but it isn't very far to 
Calais. 

Enter from R. Eileen followed by Pennywitt. 

Eileen (sees revolver). Maurice, Maurice, what- 
ever are you doing? 

Maurice (putting it in drawer). Nothing, little 
sister, nothing. 

Eileen. Come in, Mr. Pennywitt, he says he is do- 
ing nothing. 

Maurice. And is the ball over? 

Eileen. Oh, yes ; and we had a delightful time. 

Penny. I think I will say good night. It's rather 
late, you know. 

Maurice. You will find Jeems in the hall. He is 
waiting for you. 

Penny. Good night, Sir Maurice. 

Maurice. Good night. 

Penny (crosses to door L.). Good night, Miss Ei- 
leen. 

Eileen. Good night, Mr. Pennywitt. I had a 
lovely time. 

Penny. So glad, you know. Delighted, and all that 
sort of thing. (Exit L.) 

Maurice. Where is Rose? 

Eileen. She is coming. Their carriage was di- 
rectly behind ours. Oh, Maurice, she was a dream. 



90 MY IRISH ROSE 



Everyone went perfectly raving mad about her. She 
was the belle of the ball. I never saw any one so pop- 
ular. 

Maurice. I can well believe it. 

Eileen. I wonder who her escort was. She never 
introduced him to me. 

Maurice. Doubtless she will tell you in the morning. 

Eileen. So you didn't go to Belfast, after all. 

Maurice. No, I didn't go. 

Eileen. You're not cross with Rose are you? 
Please don't be cross with her. She's so young and in- 
nocent. She doesn't know our ways, Maurice. 

Maurice. No, she doesn't know our ways. 

Eileen. But I love her dearly. Promise me that 
you won't be cross with her. 

Maurice. There, there, you'd better be off to your 
room. 

Eileen. I'm going. Oh, Maurice, I think Mr. 
Pennywitt will have something to tell you in the morn- 
ing. 

Maurice. Pennywitt? You don't mean that he has 
(hesitates). 

Eileen. Yes. He's proposed. I rather felt it was 
coming tonight. 

Maurice. And what did you tell him? 

Eileen. I told him — to speak to you about it, that 
I was entirely too young to make up my mind whether 
I wanted him or not. 

Maurice. But do you? 

Eileen. I think I do. But I'll let you know in the 
morning. Good night. (Runs out L.) 

Enter Rose and Terry from R. 

Rose (comes down C). Maurice! You didn't go? 



MY IRISH ROSE 91 

Maurice. No. (Standing at L. C.) 

Rose. I want you to meet my escort. Allow me to 
present Lieutenant Terrence Creigan. 

Maurice (astonished). Terrence Creigan? 

Terry (down R.). At your service, sir. 

Maurice (to Rose). Your brother? 

Rose. Sure, whose brother did you think he was? 

Maurice (goes to Terry and shakes hands). It is 
a pleasure to meet you. 

Terry. The same to you, sir. 

Maurice. I had intended. going to Belfast in your 
behalf. The General, Sir Damon Burkett, is an old 
friend of mine. (To Rose.) That was why I was go- 
ing to Belfast, to secure your brother's unconditional 
restoration. 

Rose. Oh, and I thought you were going with her. 
Forgive me, Maurice, can you ever forgive me? (Goes 
to him.) 

Maurice (takes her in his arms). There is nothing 
to forgive. 

Rose. And you don't really care for Lady Agnes 
Barricklow? 

Maurice. Can you ask? There is only one woman 
in the wide world for me, and it is you, Rose. Rose o' 
my Heart! 

Slow Curtain 



An Early Bird 

BY 

Walter Ben Hare 

COMEDY, in 3 acts; 7 males, 7 females. Time, 2*£ 
hours. Scenes: Private office of a railroad presi- 
dent; room in a cheap boarding house at Flagg 
Corners. Act I. — A bird in the tree. Act II. — A bird 
in the bush. Act III. — A bird in the hand. 

CAST OF CHARACTERS. 

Cyrus B. Kilbuck President of the P. D. Q. Railroad 

Tony Kilbuck His Son, Just Out of College 

Mr. Barnaby Bird The Boss of Flagg County 

Mr. Mulberry Chief Attorney for the Road 

Bruce Ferguson A Clerk in the General Offices 

Artie An Office Boy 

Mr. Perry Allen A Young Gentleman Farmer 

Jessamine Lee The Girl 

Mrs. Van Dyne An Agent for the P. D. Q. Railroad 

Imogene McCarty A Stenographer 

Mrs. Beavers From Flagg Corners 

Rosa Bella Beavers The Belle of Flagg Corners 

Mrs. Perry Allen Jassamine's Chum 

Dilly. Mrs. Beavers' Hired Girl 

"You see that door? On the outside it says Pull, but 
on my side it says Push! Get the idea? I had no 
pull to make my way, only push! And it has made me 
a millionaire. Understand? Push!" Thus Kilbuck 
tells his son, Tony, who has been expelled from college. 
With unlimited nerve and a light heart, Tony starts out 
to carve his way to fame and fortune and to win the 
girl he loves. On the rough journey he meets one 
Barnaby Bird who figures strongly in the play but he 
outwits him, puts a big deal over on his father, wins 
the girl he loves and all's well. Comedy features are 
introduced by a coquettish stenographer, a fresh office 
boy, a country belle and her mother, a landlady of a 
Flagg Corners hotel and last but by no means least, 
Dilly, the hired girl. Price, 35 Cents. 

T« S. Denison & Company, Publishers 

154 West Randolph Street CHICAGO 






Fop the Love of Johnny 

BY 

Harry Hamilton 

A PLAY, in 3 acts; 6 males, 3 females. Time, 2^ 
hours. Scenes: 1 interior, 1 exterior. In his orig- 
inal manuscript the author called this play "a 
play of human hearts," and a page of description could 
not better explain its character. 

CAST OP CHARACTERS. 

Ethel Banks The Niece 

Harriet Banks The Aunt 

Dorothy Banks The Daughter 

Dick Wayburn . The Coward 

Jerrymeyer Banks The Uncle 

Phil Osborne The Soldier 

John Turkey-Legs The Indian 

Father Ryan The Priest 

Johnny Banks The Nephew 

Mr. Woods The Stranger 

Around an intensely dramatic situation, the author 
has woven a human throbbing story abounding in 
clean and clever comedy and genuine pathos. We do 
not love all the characters the way we do Ethel and 
Johnny but we are not indifferent to any for they 
are all intensely human. We follow the Cinderella-like 
form of Ethel through the play with tears and laugh- 
ter; we fear Dick Wayburn; our hearts are won by 
the courage and unselfishness of Father Ryan; we 
grow fat laughing at Phil, the returned soldier; John 
Turkey-Legs inspires within us a wholesome respect 
for the native Red Man; Uncle Jerry wins our sym- 
pathy and forgiveness; we admire Dorothy, and we 
finally take back all we said about Aunt Harriet when 
in the last act she renounces the domestic trousers 
she has worn all through the play. No play since 
"The Parish Priest" or "The Rosary" has had a more 
appealing character of a priest than that of Father 
Ryan. A professional plaj r , successful on the road, 
within the scope of talented amateur players. Stage 
directions and business unusually complete. 

Professional stage rights reserved and a 
royalty often dollars required for amateur 
performance. Price, Per Copy, 35 Cents 

T. S. Denison & Company, Publishers 

154 West Randolph Street CHICAGO 



Ruth in a Rush 

BY 
LlNDSEY BARBEE 

A COMEDY, in 3 acts; 5 males, 7 females. Time, 
2% hours. Scenes: 1 exterior, 1 interior. 

CAST OF CHARACTERS. 

Mrs. Brownell Ruth's Aunt 

Juliet Raymond..; Ruth's Secretary and Friend 

Ruth Macdonald Moore Always in a Rush 

Susie A Maid 

Leonard Bruce Poor But Aristocratic 

Wayne Ashley Rich But Uncultured 

Dwight Lambert An Eloper 

Peggy Patton Another Eloper 

Gilbert Lansing A Writer 

Philip Grant A Millionaire 

Sadie Sodastrom A Ticket Agent 

Jean Moore Foster Ruth's Sister 

Ruth in a rush — for a position! Ruth in a rush — 
for a train! Ruth in a rush — for the borderline! Under 
these three captions, Ruth Moore might have desig- 
nated the most important era of her life. For, in her 
hurry to be Gilbert Lansing's private secretary, she 
unconsciously became the instrument of fate; during 
the eventful afternoon at the little waiting room at 
Sunshine Junction she was involved in a tangle of 
circumstances which resulted in the unusual expe- 
rience of being handcuffed to a fascinating stranger; 
and in her sudden decision to cross the borderline, 
she obeyed impulse, defied convention, became hap- 
pily engaged and decided that, after all, she had been 
perfectly justified in her life habit of being in a rush. 
And all this to the accompaniment of unfortunate 
suitors, stray lunatics and irresponsible elopers! Like 
Ruth herself, the spirited action and the merry com- 
edy of this breezy play go with a rush. 

Price, 35 Cents. 



T. S. Den i son & Company, Publishers 

154 West Randolph Street CHICAGO 



The Real Thing After All 

BY 
LlNDSEY BARBEE 

An after-the-war comedy-drama, in 3 acts; 7 males, 
9 females (2 are children, boy and girl). Time, 2Vz 
hours. Scenes: 1 exterior, 1 interior. 

CAST OP CHARACTERS. 

Bobby Winton A Youthful Soldier 

Ruth Meredith With the Gift of Understanding 

Anne Meredith Winton In Love with Her Husband 

Kate Mrs. Winton's Maid 

Robert Winton A Successful Lawyer 

Cecily Hargraves Richard's Fiancee 

Thomas Gregory A Mystery 

Alison Page Who Is Clever 

Dennis Who Emulates Sherlock Holmes 

Doris Thorne A War Bride 

Edward Thorne ("Ted") A War Groom 

Captain Richard Winton Who Does the Unexpected 

Aimee , "A Little Bit of France" 

Miss Ward Richard's Aunt and Housekeeper 

Fifi A French Maid 

Roger Atherton .An American Aviator 

Sometimes it is pretty hard to find the real thing 
after all — and Dick Winton, fresh from service, with 
a Croix de Guerre all his own and a dear French 
orphan to claim his care and affection, searches in 
vain until the Christmas spirit touches his eyes and 
gives him the magic vision. And while selfish Cecily, 
quiet Ruth and adoring Aimee unconsciously direct 
his destiny, clever Alison tries to decide between the 
mysterious aviator and the equally mysterious Tom 
Gregory, and a fascinating French maid plays havoc 
with hearts — and other things! The irrepressible Kate, 
in emulation of Dennis, assumes the role of detective 
and flourishes the stolen pearls at the crucial moment; 
the stranger, Atherton, proves a friend in need and 
establishes an identity, all by a packet of letters; and, 
as to the recovery of the missing twenty-five thousand 
— well, that is Bobby's story, and he tells it much 
better than anybody else can hope to do. 

Price, 35 Cents. 

T. S. Denison & Company, Publishers 

154 West Randolph Street CHICAGO 



When Smith Stepped Out 

BY 

Harry Osborne 

A COMEDY, in 3 acts; 4 males, 4 females. Time, 
about 2 hours. Scene: 1 interior throughout. 

"Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith." 

CAST OF CHARACTERS, 

William Horace Smith Uncle Bill 

George Smith His Nephew 

Richard Keene A Detective 

Bob Stanley A Wooer 

Mrs. George Smith Nellie 

Muriel Armitage Her Younger Sister 

Miss Winslow A Spinster 

Hilda The Maid at the Smith's 

Did you ever stop to think how dangerous it is to 
carry a loaded revolver? Dear, old, absent-minded 
Uncle Bill Smith, from Australia on a visit, starts 
something difficult to finish when he steps out for 
his evening walk with a revolver in his pocket. He 
innocently robs a man of his watch, loses his hat, 
gives the detective a merry chase, almost sees the 
inside of a jail and just escapes the matrimonial 
clutches of a desperate spinster. He all but breaks 
up one peaceful home but starts another by getting 
a bashful lover to propose and in the end has everyone 
stepping about as lively as the kangaroo from his 
native Australia. It all happens quickly, laughingly, 
mysteriously and thrillingly. After two hours of fast 
fun the audience will discover that melancholy, indi- 
gestion and worries have all stepped out with the 
sick detective who left just as the curtain dropped. 
No star part, but strong characterization through- 
out, easily within the range of amateurs. 

Professional stage rights reserved and a 
royalty of ten dollars required for amateur 
performance. Price, Per Copy, 35 Cents 

T. S. Denison & Company, Publishers 

154 West Randolph Street CHICAGO 



Plays for Schools and Colleges 

THE HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN 

By Charles Ulrich. Comedy in 3 acts; 12 males. Time, 
2 hours. Price, 25 Cents. 



THE KINGDOM OF HEARTS CONTENT 

By Lindsey Barbee. Comedy in 3 acts; 6 males, 12 fe- 
males. Time, 2% hours. Price, 25 Cents. 

MACBETH A LA MODE 

By Walter Ben Hare. Burletta in 3 acts; 7 males, 7 
females. Time; 1*4 hours. Price, 25 Cents. 

MRS. TUBBS OF SHANTYTOWN 

By Walter Ben Hare. Comedy-drama in 3 acts; 4 
males, 7 females. Time, 2% hours. Price, 25 Cents. 

PARLOR MATCHES" . 

By Walter Ben Hare. Comedy of society in 2 acts; 4 
males, 5 females. Time, 1^ hours. Price, 25 Cents. 

A POOR MARRIED MAN 

By Walter Ben Hare. Farce-comedy in 3 acts; 4 males, 
4 females. Time, 2 hours. Price, 25 Cents. 

A PRAIRIE ROSE 

By Edith F. A. U. Painton. Comedy-drama in 4 acts; 
7 males, 4 females. Time, 2% hours. Price, 25 Cents. 



RE-TAMING OF THE SHREW 

By John W. Postgate, Shakespearean travesty in 1 act; 
6 males. 5 females. Time, 45 minutes. Price, 25 Cents. 

SAVAGELAND 

By Walter Ben Hare. Musical comedy in 2 acts; 5 
males, 5 females. Time, 2V 2 hours: Price, 50 Cents. 

SHADOWS 

By Mary Moncure Parker. Play of today and a dream 
of the past; 3 males, 4 females. Time, 35 minutes. 

Price, 15 Cents. 

SING A SONG OF SENIORS 

By Lindsey Barbee. Comedietta; 7 females. Time,> 30 
minutes. Price, 15 Cents. 



STAR BRIGHT 

By Edith F. A. U. Painton. Comedy-drama in 3 acts; 
6 males, 5 females. Time. 2V 2 hours. Price, 25 Cents. 

A TRIAL OF HEARTS 

By Lindsey Barbee. Comedy in 4 acts; 6 males, 18 f> 
males. Time. 2*4 hours. Price, 25 Ce 

T. S. Denison & Company, Pub 1 

154 West Randolph Street 



Standard and Amateur Plays 

Our list of plays comprises hundreds of 
titles, dramas* comedies, farces, vaudeville 
sketches, monologues, entertainments; etc. 
All shades of sentiment are represented, all 
varieties of talent, number of characters and 
time required in presentation are provided 
for in this list. 



Popular Entertainment Books 

Under this heading are found books 
touching every feature in the entertainment 
field, Dialogues, for all ages, Speakers, 
Recitations, Monologues, Drills, Entertain- 
ments, suitable for all occasions, Jokes, Min- 
strels, Hand Books, etc. Over sixty titles. 
These books- are not filled with old ma- 
terial, rehashed and simply made to sell ; 
they are fresh and original matter, each 
written by a specialist in his given line. The 
books are finely made, clear print, good pa- 
per and each, has a most attractive, -indi- 
vidual cover design. One of the best and 
most complete entertainment series pub- 
lished. 

Paper Binding Only, Price 35 Cents Each 
Send for Complete* Descriptive Catalogue 

T.S. 1 Penison& Company, Publishers 

^t Randolph Street CHICAGO 



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